


my sanctuary

by byakuyakuchiki



Category: Bleach
Genre: Cat/Human Hybrids, Claiming Bites, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Healing, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Bites, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Nesting, OT3, Past Sexual Abuse, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 100,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byakuyakuchiki/pseuds/byakuyakuchiki
Summary: ulquiorra is content to help the hybrids who come his way with no intent to ever take in one of his own. grimmjow is a cat with a long and painful history that takes a shine to him. aizen is terrible with all office supplies he touches and refuses to stop playing matchmaker, and gin is just along for the ride.or, ulquiorra never wanted a hybrid until a hybrid came along who wanted him.





	1. Chapter 1

There is a cat hybrid sprawled in front of the doorway when Ulquiorra Cifer arrives at work.

Inherently, this is not an unusual occurrence. Working at a hybrid shelter means that he often finds a hybrid or two on the doorstep if he gets to work before his manager and with no entryway between the outdoors and the front office, hybrids are forced to wait for someone to let them in. A better system has not made itself present, or Ulquiorra would have adjusted accordingly. The best they have been able to do is file for a sanction allowing hybrids to remain on the property without authorities coming to round them up and take them somewhere else. If a hybrid is here, after all, they obviously intend to make their way inside. Ulquiorra, at the very least, convinced his manager to pay for the awning over the front of the shelter, allowing the hybrids in desperate need of shelter to shield themselves from rain, sleet, or snow.

In the short time Ulquiorra has worked at this shelter, he has had time to analyze the hybrids who often come to them as well as the date provided by shelters across the country. This information tells him the hybrid asleep against the door fits the parameters for one they would need to take in. Cat hybrids are turned out onto the streets at a higher rate than any other breed, and those who are kept are usually petite, small, and cute enough to fit a certain aesthetic. The hybrid with his shoulder pressed into the door and his head turned down is tall; Ulquiorra can read it in the lines of his limbs, the slope of his back. His shoulders are broad, and the torn sleeve of his shirt reveals impressive muscles in his biceps.

“Excuse me.” Ulquiorra speaks clearly and from a distance, lingering by the corner of the building. He knows all too well what a startled hybrid might do suddenly awakened from sleep. “Would you please get up and away from the door so I can let you in?”

Sure enough, the hybrid jolts; one clawed hand swipes at the air before the cat realizes where the voice came from. Brilliant blue eyes meet Ulquiorra’s, turned up to match his gaze, and he can’t help a small sound of consideration at the arrogant but beautiful bone structure on this cat. Someone turned him out when he looks like this? People’s standards truly are worth scrutiny.

“Who are you?” the cat demands, stretching his arms over his head.

“My name is Ulquiorra Cifer. I work here in this building.” Ulquiorra steps closer to the hybrid and, without much thought, offers him a hand to help him up.

Instead of taking his hand, the cat leans in to sniff his fingers, nose twitching. It would be cute to someone who spent less time around hybrids, Ulquiorra is sure, but he has had his fair share of time with them and has gotten used to their more animal-like gestures and habits. Only once the cat has sniffed him a few times does he take Ulquiorra’s hand, making a surprised noise in the back of his throat when Ulquiorra is able to pull him to his feet.

He is not the only one with considerable muscle on his side.

Up close, the cat is prettier than at first glance. He might be living on the streets from the state of his clothing, but he keeps himself clean like any cat would; his hair is a paler blue than his vivid eyes, his ears well-groomed and his tail fluffy, soft-looking to the touch. Ulquiorra has to look up at him; the height difference between them is pronounced, as is general size.

“How long have you been living on the streets?” Ulquiorra retrieves the shelter key on his ring, making quick work of the three locks they have on the door.

“Long enough. I almost got picked up by cops last night so I thought it’d be better to not push it anymore.” The cat leans over him, sniffing the top of his head.

Ulquiorra sighs softly but says nothing, pushing the door open. “Well, please come right inside.”

The front office of the shelter was in disarray when Ulquiorra first came to put in his application, and when he was given the go-ahead, he rearranged the entire room and neatened all of the paperwork, developed a filing system, and in general made it a more approachable venue. The couch set against the wall was an addition he made to give prospective owners and incoming hybrids somewhere to sit; the cat takes advantage of this now, sitting in the corner and stretching his legs across the entire length of it.

“Do you have a name?” Ulquiorra asks him, hanging up his coat so he can start his morning routine.

“Grimmjow.” The cat flashes him a smile of teeth that look sharper than any human’s. “You?”

The question gives Ulquiorra pause. “Ulquiorra Cifer. Give me just a moment to do a few quick chores and then we’ll sit down to fill out the paperwork for your arrival.”

“What kind of paperwork?” Grimmjow asks him.

Again, Ulquiorra stops. He is used to a barrage of questions from incoming hybrids, but these two are not part of the usual. “Your name, your age, your birthday. Height and weight. Basic health questions, questions about your prior homes. Have you never done this before?”

Hybrids who end up on the street have usually gone through a few homes; most owners tend to take them to shelters when they no longer want them because hybrids found on the street can usually be traced back to an owner. Fines are high now; the law used to not care until the crime rate jumped exponentially. Hybrids murdered on the streets, hybrids who attacked humans out of fear or pain, trafficking rings— The list goes on, and so the law finally tried to so  _ something _ about it. It takes a brave owner willing to throw hybrid out knowing what might happen.

“Nah.” Grimmjow rolls his shoulders and Ulquiorra schools his expression before he can frown. “I bounced a few places before I hit the streets but I’ve never been to a shelter before.”

“How is it you were able to have several former owners but not have been through a shelter system?” Ulquiorra asks carefully, already fearing the answer.

Grimmjow’s smile twists into a cruel smirk. “The usual way, isn’t it?”

“Oh. I see.” Ulquiorra shakes his head. “I’m going to put on some coffee, and I’ve brought pastries from the bakery down the street. Would you like some?”

“Sure.” Grimmjow yawns, tips his head back into the cushions. “Let me know when the coffee’s done. I’m going to catch a nap while you’re busy.”

Ulquiorra nods. “Of course. I’ll try not to be too long.”

The rhythm of his morning routine sets his nerves at ease; Grimmjow does not have to be candid with the details for Ulquiorra to piece together his background. Some humans are braver than others, and while hybrid trafficking is usually relegated to crime syndicates, there are wealthy owners who are willing to take the legal risk of selling their hybrid to a friend or associate when they no longer have use of them. The hybrids in those situations usually do not manage to free themselves from such a situation easily considering just how much wealthy people get away with in society, so Grimmjow likely struggled for freedom. That his freedom was struggling to survive on the streets is depressing to think about.

Coffee goes on first because Ulquiorra’s manager will want some when he arrives, and then he sets about going through voicemails and emails, firing off answers as quickly as possible. When the coffee is finally finished brewing, everything else is already in order. Ulquiorra pours two mugs, setting one on the coffee table in front of Grimmjow before gently setting a hand on his shoulder, giving it a careful squeeze.

Long blue lashes flutter before Grimmjow meets his gaze with lidded eyes. “Coffee done?”

“I’ve set a mug out for you. The pastries are on the table next to it. Feel free to help yourself. Once you’ve eaten, we can fill out the paperwork.” Ulquiorra steps smoothly away, preparing to return to his desk to print out the appropriate paperwork.

He takes perhaps one step before Grimmjow grasps him by the wrist, claws pricking his skin, but not enough to hurt. “Thank you. You’re the first human who’s been nice to me in a while.”

“Well. It’s the proper way to do things. You came to us for help, so helping you is what I should do.” Ulquiorra turns to look at Grimmjow, puzzled by the way those earnest eyes gaze up at him. “Besides, you live on the streets. You were probably hungry. It was the least I could do.”

Grimmjow releases his hand and Ulquiorra returns to his desk, printing out the paperwork and setting it aside while Grimmjow eats. Their shelter does better than most when it comes to adoptions; Ulquiorra’s vetting methods are thorough and he refuses to sign off on anyone who makes him suspicious, so their reputation has improved drastically and the hybrids who live here are happier as a result. Still, he doubts finding a home for Grimmjow will be easy. Hybrids with multiple prior homes come off as troubled and hard to take care of even if the humans who took them in were ill-prepared. Living on the street comes off just as bad.

The door swings open about ten minutes later and Ulquiorra’s manager, Aizen Sousuke, steps into the room, shrugging out of his coat as he does. “Ulquiorra, you’re early ag— Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.” Grimmjow jerks his head up in a half-nod, speaking around a mouthful of doughnut.

“This is Grimmjow. He’s our new intake this morning.” Ulquiorra clips the paperwork to a clipboard, attaches a pen, and holds it out to Aizen. “Here, take this to him. Grimmjow, fill out as much of this as you can on your own. I can answer any questions you have.”

With another mouthful of doughnut, all Grimmjow can do is nod to show he understands.

“Interesting, Ulquiorra.” The voice never fails to make the hairs on the back of Ulquiorra’s neck stand up; Gin leans over his desk, never one to believe in personal boundaries. “I can’t remember a time when you’ve offered breakfast to a new hybrid before.”

Ulquiorra serves Aizen’s beloved fox hybrid a withering stare. “You should take your coat off before you get too hot. The office is kept very warm, you know.”

Gin smirks at him but shrugs out of his coat, darting across the room to Grimmjow to sniff at him before he lets himself into the living space where the sheltered hybrids stay. Once, Ulquiorra had filled out intake forms for Gin, he had been one of the first hybrids who showed up on the doorstep and his sodden appearance, rain-soaked hair and clothing, were what triggered Ulquiorra to demanding the awning. Then, he would have never foreseen Aizen so quickly taking to Gin and adopting him, their personalities so starkly different from one another.

He gets along well with the hybrids they take care of here, though, and being a hybrid himself means that communication is smoother and easier on all fronts, so Ulquiorra tolerates the fact Aizen refuses to leave him at home alone. At this point, he’s more competent than Aizen himself, something Ulquiorra will never let his manager live down.

“You’ve made coffee. You’re a lifesaver, Ulquiorra.” Aizen steps over to the pot, eyeing Grimmjow with interest. “Aren’t you an unusual one? I’ve never seen a cat hybrid so tall.”

Grimmjow rolls his shoulders. “Dunno. Haven’t spent that much time around other hybrids.”

“You haven’t… I see.” Aizen looks thoughtful, sends a glance Ulquiorra’s direction, and Ulquiorra can only nod. It runs in line with what Grimmjow has already told him. “Well, our rooms are rather communal, so you can get to know the others while you’re here. Or, if you would prefer, you can have a room to yourself. Ulquiorra can put in a note in your file so that no one assumes you’re being forcefully sequestered from the others.”

“Why the hell would I be forcefully… Whatever,” Grimmjow says.

Ulquiorra clears his throat. “There’s a policy in almost every shelter that a hybrid with a history of violent behavior should be kept away from the others and monitored just in case.”

“Right. That’s shitty.” Grimmjow shakes his head. “I mean, yeah, I’d prefer some privacy. You don’t get any living on the streets.”

Aizen’s face softens. “You’ve had a difficult life. Well, you’ll be safe here at least.”

“We only have two employees here, Aizen-san and myself. You’ve interacted with me, so you have had time to decide if I am a danger to you or not. The only thing Aizen-san is a danger to is the shredder. We’ve replaced it twice.” Ulquiorra pointedly ignores the way Aizen scowls at him for the reminder; another thing Ulquiorra would never let him live down. “Gin would have killed him a long time ago if he was predisposed to violence.”

Grimmjow snorts. “Well, I can’t say I don’t have one. Swiped the face on my last owner so I could get out the door. If you gotta put that in the file, then I guess do it.”

Ulquiorra bites down on the corner of his lip, then clears his throat. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Neither did I,” Aizen says smoothly. “Must be the furnace kicking on. Oh, well, it must not have been too important. Ulquiorra, just make a note in his file that he wants a room to himself.”

“Already planned on doing that. It’s not uncommon, especially among cats, so no one will bat a lash.” Ulquiorra can feel those intense blue eyes burning into him from across the room, but he chooses not to look Grimmjow’s way as he accesses the map he has of the building, checking to see which rooms are available.

When Grimmjow is finished with the paperwork, Ulquiorra sets about trying to decipher the messy script of his handwriting so he can import the information into his computer. It takes about twenty minutes and then he stands, pushing his chair in carefully and locking his computer so that Aizen doesn’t get any ideas and try to use it in his absence.

“With that done, I can show you around.” Ulquiorra watches Grimmjow stand, all long limbs and muscle and the inherent grace most cat hybrids possess.  _ Oh, he’s… Beautiful. _ “I’ll show you the grounds, the communal rooms, and then to your own personal room. Since you’re staying willingly, I won’t be locking it. I’ve already added the note to your file saying it was a choice, not a demand, so no prospective owners will be able to think less of you.”

Grimmjow arches an eyebrow at him. “You really think that’s gonna stop them?”

“Probably not. But it’s worth noting.” Ulquiorra walks past him to the doorway at the other end of the office, waiting for Grimmjow to join him. “But just the same, I’m here to make sure you get a home, and I will work as hard for you as I do for everyone else.”

Grimmjow’s face softens. Ulquiorra ignores the raised eyebrows Aizen gives him.

This is just business, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

For as long as he can remember, Grimmjow has always hated humans.

Having been born in one of the most expensive manors in probably all of Japan did not soften his opinion at all; it set him up for a life of misery at the hands of humans who only saw him as a commodity to be owned. Until puberty struck and his growth spurt hit, Grimmjow was treated as nothing more than a glorified pet whose feelings were ignored in favor of trying to shape him into being an obedient cat. That his “rebellious phase” developed into his entire personality only meant he was separated from his mother and sold off to someone who thought they could break him properly. And so on and so forth until his last home.

In one short week, the hybrid shelter is far better than any of the homes he’s ever had and while he still has his reservations about Aizen and Ulquiorra, the two of them have proven neither of them seem to have any negative intentions toward the hybrids in their care. Grimmjow refuses to drop his guard because he knows better and he knows exactly what might happen if he does such a foolish thing, but he can’t help but look forward to when Ulquiorra shows up in his room every day to let him know he’s arrived and ask him if he needs anything.

This morning is par for the course. Grimmjow likes having a room to himself; the space smells like him, which is nice because he’s never been allowed to have a space all to himself before. He stretches out on the sheets, arms folded beneath his head, and listens to the sounds of the building settling, the cars outside, other hybrids already up and moving around behind the office. The only real rule other than the usuals— no fighting, no stealing, so on and so forth— is that none of them are allowed in the office because Ulquiorra’s space is important to him.

It’s something that, as a hybrid, Grimmjow understands better than most. He knows the value of having territory that belongs just to you, a space you set into order in your own way and keep that way for your own peace of mind. If Ulquiorra was less kind, that rule might not be followed so closely, but the soft-spoken human is adored by almost every hybrid in the building that Grimmjow is spoken to which is hardly a surprise to him. Ulquiorra is the only human he has ever met that went out of his way to be kind to hybrids rather than setting a professional distance between himself and the hybrids in his care.

The soft sound of familiar footsteps draws Grimmjow’s attention to the door and he sits up, resting his back against the wall and stretching his arms over his head. A moment later and a soft knock comes at the door, Ulquiorra waiting for Grimmjow to call out to him.

“You can come in.” Grimmjow stretches his back again, a little mewl slipping from his lips because it just feels  _ good. _ Sleeping in a real bed again has done wonders for him.

Ulquiorra opens the door slowly, and for the first time since Grimmjow has met him, his long dark hair is tied back out of his soft green eyes. “Good morning. I’m here to check on you.”

“I know.” Grimmjow scoots to the edge of his bed. “You show up every morning, Quiorra.”

If the human minds the nickname, he never shows it, only padding into the room and closing the door behind him. “Well, you’re new. It’s proper to check up on you while you adjust.”

“I was living on the streets. It’s not hard to adjust to having a roof over my head, you know.” Still, Grimmjow appreciates the consideration— and the fact that Ulquiorra shut the door behind him, letting them keep their privacy. Grimmjow prefers the door shut.

“Still.” Ulquiorra glances around the room. It’s been kept in perfect order, considering Grimmjow has few personal possessions. Gin brought him clothes that would properly fit him so he wouldn’t have to continuously make Ulquiorra wash the same change of clothing, and truth be told, Grimmjow didn’t  _ want _ to keep those clothes once he had options.

Grimmjow stretches out a hand, lazily batting at Ulquiorra’s hand. “Well, if you’re going to come see me, you might as well make yourself useful and pet me.”

“Useful. This is useful to you.” Ulquiorra shakes his head but allows Grimmjow to take him by the wrist and drag him over to the bed so that he’s stood between Grimmjow’s thighs. “I can spend some time with you, I suppose. Kyoraku-san won’t be by until this afternoon to pick up Ukitake-san, so I have some time on my hands.”

“You’re so formal. Weirdo.” Grimmjow snorts, taking Ulquiorra’s hand and setting it on top of his head. “Like I said, make yourself useful and pet me already.”

Ulquiorra frowns down at him, fingers brushing his hair off of his forehead. “You’re such a rude cat, you know that? But I suppose it fits in with your personality. There’s at least one person out there who would be charmed by how mouthy you are.”

“You think I give a shit? Humans are overrated. I’d rather not.” Grimmjow presses his head up into Ulquiorra’s hand meaningfully. Much as he’s loathe to admit it, Ulquiorra gives the best ear scritches of all time. “Pet me, damn it. I’ve asked enough times.”

“Ask? You’ve only demanded.” But Ulquiorra relents, fingers curling against Grimmjow’s scalp.

His fingers dance behind one of Grimmjow’s ears, the pads skating through his fur with a practiced touch that has Grimmjow sighing, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans into Ulquiorra’s touch. Though Grimmjow holds no human near and dear to his heart, he likes how Ulquiorra pets him, the way his fingers smooth through Grimmjow’s fur before massaging the base where it connects to the rest of his scalp. The skin there is ultra receptive to touch.

Ulquiorra’s fingers slip down to that spot and Grimmjow purrs instantly, pressing up into Ulquiorra’s hand for more. When Ulquiorra rubs the same spot on the other ear, using both hands, it takes everything in Grimmjow not to rub up against him like a cat in heat.

“You’re actually cute when you’re like this,” Ulquiorra tells him, thumbs brushing over the edge of Grimmjow’s ears, making him shiver all the way up his spine. “Cute kitten. Good boy.”

Grimmjow makes a breathless noise at him then swats at his hip. “Asshole. Shut up.”

“But you like it.” Ulquiorra presses down hard against his scalp and Grimmjow’s purring intensifies against his will. “You can always ask me to stop if you want me to.”

Instead of asking Ulquiorra to stop, Grimmjow loops both arms around his waist, pressing his cheek against Ulquiorra’s stomach. The human squeaks and Grimmjow grins a little, pressing up into Ulquiorra’s fingers. “Not gonna ask you to stop, Quiorra.”

He hears Ulquiorra’s breath hitch and wonders if he went too far, prepared to back down, but Ulquiorra goes back to rubbing his ears, nails scraping lightly over his skin and making Grimmjow tremble in response. “Then I suppose I don’t have a reason to stop.”

Grimmjow presses his cheek closer to Ulquiorra’s stomach, his eyes drifting shut as he lets Ulquiorra’s soothing touch melt the tension and unease from his body. It doesn’t have to mean anything other than Grimmjow being willing to take advantage of a single human being kind to him, and he thinks that Ulquiorra must get  _ something _ out of this line of work if he’s so willing to let Grimmjow hold onto him and make demands of him like this.

Or he has ulterior motives. Grimmjow wouldn’t be surprised because every human always does, don’t they? Plans squirreled away in the darkest parts of their hearts. It would suck, though, there’s no denying just how much it would suck to have this one nice guy turn out to be plotting things behind everyone’s backs, but he’s just quiet enough to make Grimmjow wonder.

For now, though, he tilts his head, peeking up at Ulquiorra through his lashes, his chin digging into Ulquiorra’s stomach. If it hurts him, he doesn’t say so. “Excited for Ukitake to get a home?”

“Of course I am. He’s been here for years. It’s nice to know someone is going to give him a home and take care of him.” Ulquiorra runs the tip of his finger along the bridge of Grimmjow’s nose, and it makes Grimmjow purr to be touched so softly. “I know you have your doubts, but I’ve known Kyoraku-san for most of my life. He’s a truly good man.”

“No use in telling you I don’t believe in that shit, right? You already know that.” Grimmjow nips at Ulquiorra’s finger because he can, and because Ulquiorra doesn’t seem to mind. “What’re you gonna do if it turns out he was an asshole after all and he hurts Ukitake?”

“He won’t. But if he did, I’d call the police and have them arrest him. But, as I said, it’s not a true concern of mine.” Ulquiorra traces his finger over Grimmjow’s lips, as if tempting Grimmjow to try to bite him again; his voice is so soft, almost hypnotic. “I’d do the same for you.”

“You really are trying to convince me that you care, huh?” Grimmjow catches Ulquiorra’s finger between his teeth, not biting down hard enough to hurt, though he could if he wanted to.

Ulquiorra’s smile is warm and it seeps into Grimmjow’s bones, chasing away a chill he didn’t realize was there and doesn’t know how to explain. “I’m not trying to convince you of anything. It is what it is. I do care. Making sure you find a loving home is important to me.”

“Good luck with that.” Grimmjow licks his finger where he’d bit to make up for doing it, surprised when Ulquiorra doesn’t seem the least disgusted by the act.

“Even if you’re a challenge, I don’t mind so much.” Ulquiorra pats the dampness on his skin dry on his pants and then cards his fingers through Grimmjow’s hair, softer now that he’s had a week to properly wash and dry it. It’s less focused than the ear rubs but it makes Grimmjow’s eyelids flutter just the same. “It just means you deserve a nice home even more.”

Grimmjow rolls his shoulders, presses his fingers into the small of Ulquiorra’s back just to see what he’ll do. He doesn’t do anything, which is interesting. “You’re awfully comfortable, huh?”

“You’re a touchy hybrid who probably hasn’t had anyone pet him and treat him nicely in years, maybe ever. I don’t mind assisting you.” Ulquiorra runs his finger down Grimmjow’s nose once more, which feels nicer than it has any right to. “If I didn’t like hybrids and wasn’t prepared to handle how affectionate some of you are, why would I even bother with this job? You give me so little credit but you’ll come around in time.”

“We’ll see.” Grimmjow tilts his head so he can press his cheek against Ulquiorra once more, tempted to just scent mark him. Just to see how the other hybrids respond when they can smell Grimmjow all over him. “You’ve stopped petting me again.”

Ulquiorra sighs softly, fingers sifting through Grimmjow’s hair. “You’re such a pushy kitten.”

_ Cat, not kitten, _ Grimmjow thinks, but doesn’t correct him.

He’s too absorbed in Ulquiorra’s touch and having all of this positive attention on him to realize someone is coming their way until the door swings open, the unmistakable scent of  _ fox _ washing over Grimmjow a moment before he hears a familiar little laugh. Gin.

“Well, well, I’ve walked in on something intimate. I apologize.” Gin makes a face at Ulquiorra that Grimmjow doesn’t quite understand, but he knows to let go of Ulquiorra and back off even though he was enjoying himself. “Ulquiorra, Sosuke sent me to come retrieve you. We’ve got a young woman downstairs who would like to meet some of ours.”

Ulquiorra gives Grimmjow’s hair one last stroke before stepping away from him. “We were just exchanging pleasantries, Gin. Thank you for letting me know.” Ulquiorra’s emerald gaze falls on Grimmjow once more, who perks up despite himself. “You should come downstairs and eat. I’ve left you something with Aizen-san and you can step into the office to get it.”

Grimmjow grins, exposing his sharp teeth. “You spoil me, Quiorra.”

“Whatever you say.” Ulquiorra turns back to Gin, who looks between the two of them with a considerate expression on his face. “Let’s go, Gin. Introduce me to our newest client.”

Grimmjow waits for them to leave the room before he stands up, throws on something clean, and lets himself downstairs to where he knows the office door is. If there are rumors spreading about Ulquiorra letting him into the office, then so be it. Aizen is sat on the couch with a spread of paperwork in front of him, the room absent of any other people; Ulquiorra must have taken back their prospective customer already, always on top of everything. It’s an interesting quality for a human to have, one that sticks out to Grimmjow.

Aizen lifts his head when Grimmjow pads into the office, brightening at the sight of him; Grimmjow resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Grimmjow, nice to see you this morning. Ulquiorra left me with breakfast for you. How have you been sleeping?”

“Pretty good. Bed’s soft, no one tries to attack me while I’m asleep.” Aizen winces at those words and Grimmjow reminds himself not to throw those words out without thinking about it. “It’s a really nice place you’ve got here, actually. I appreciate staying here.”

“We’re happy to have you.” Aizen twists around, picking a brown paper bag up off of the floor to offer it to Grimmjow. “You like Ulquiorra’s coffee, correct? There’s some in the pot still.”

“I’m going to eat at his desk since you’re, uh, busy.” Grimmjow eyes the paperwork curiously before heading for the coffee pot. Ulquiorra  _ does _ make good coffee.

Aizen picks up his pen and a sheaf of papers. “If he gets angry at you, don’t try to hide behind me. You know how he is about his things and people messing with them. And yes, this is just… Part of the job. Ulquiorra won’t let me get away with not doing the work this time.”

“I won’t make a mess, Christ. What work are you doing?” Grimmjow takes his mug and his bag of treats over to Ulquiorra’s desk, carefully moving his folders over so as not to damage them. The bag smells sweet and when he opens it up, he manages an excited little noise. He fucking  _ loves _ cinnamon rolls, how would Ulquiorra know?

“We’ve got a few hybrids who are heading to their new homes soon and this is just, I have to go over all of their applications.” Aizen sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses sliding down slightly. “Ulquiorra is so much better at this than I am, but he  _ is _ busy at the moment.”

Grimmjow sets his cinnamon rolls on top of their brown paper bag, too lazy to retrieve an actual plate. He wonders if Ulquiorra would get pissed at him if he messed the desk up. “He seems like he does all the work around here. Why do you even bother coming in?”

“Appearances.” Aizen picks up another sheaf of papers. “He mostly just tells me what I’m allowed to do, which is not what I expected when I hired him, but I’m grateful. He’s got a handle on things that I don’t have, and I admire that about him.”

“Seems like he’s basically perfect.” Grimmjow takes a bite of cinnamon roll and wonders how pissed Ulquiorra would be if Grimmjow orgasmed in his chair from how good this food is.

Aizen seems thoughtful, taking his glasses off and setting the paperwork in front of him back on the coffee table. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Ulquiorra was very nervous during his interview and found questions difficult to answer. He didn’t handle the job so well the first few weeks. But the hybrids really adored him, and that seemed to help him adjust. He wanted to do better for them.”

“Prince fucking Charming,” Grimmjow says, sucking icing off of his fingers and chasing it with black coffee, the perfect combination. “Bet whoever’s waiting for him at home adores him.”

“Ulquiorra doesn’t have a hybrid of his own, actually, if that’s what you mean.” Aizen’s eyes glitter mischievously and Grimmjow frowns at him. “I’ve been trying to set him up with one for years now. He deserves someone waiting at home for him, don’t you think? And he gets along with everyone so well. He just keeps insisting he doesn’t want that.”

Grimmjow takes another bite out of his cinnamon roll, chewing thoughtfully as he turns that around in his head; it’s hard to ignore how empty Ulquiorra’s desk is, not even a photograph, but if he doesn’t share his life with anyone, what photos would he have? The thought would be sad if Grimmjow was able to feel bad for humans.

Finally, he swallows his food. “Well, good luck with that, I guess. He seems stubborn.”

“Oh, he is,” Aizen agrees, going back to his work. “It’s what got all of us here today, though, so I don’t mind. Our shelter is functioning and safe, our clients like us, and our hybrids are healthy. So as far as I’m concerned, he’s a godsend. So he’s allowed to be stubborn. Have you seen Gin? I sent him to get Ulquiorra and never saw him again.”

Grimmjow shakes his head. “Nah. Not seen him since they left together.”

“Wonderful. Well, enjoy your breakfast.” Aizen picks up another sheaf of papers. “One day soon, I’m going to be going over someone’s application to adopt you.”

_ I doubt it, _ Grimmjow thinks, and goes back to his cinnamon rolls.


	3. Chapter 3

Grimmjow is sitting at his desk.

Remaining perfectly poised in his position is something Ulquiorra values about most of his skills given the level of emotional work that goes into running a hybrid shelter. He remains calm as he escorts Ms. Hinamori to the door, her paperwork in hand, and reassures her that they will give her a call as quickly as possible. When the door closes behind her and the office is once again quiet, Ulquiorra turns to face his desk, eyebrow twitching at the sight of Grimmjow seated so comfortably in his chair, arms tucked behind his head, one leg crossed over the other.

“What are you doing behind my desk?” he asks, eyebrows lifting when Grimmjow chirps at him.

“Oh, that’s a good sound,” Aizen muses from behind his paperwork; Grimmjow shoots him a quick scowl. “Ulquiorra, have you seen Gin? I sent him to get you and haven’t seen him since.”

“He’s with Kira and Rangiku out in the back.” Ulquiorra knew the three of them were close before Aizen adopted Gin and is unsurprised that Gin returns so often to spend time with them. “Hinamori is interested in adopting Rangiku, so they must be getting in as much quality time as they possibly can before the inevitable. Grimmjow, you are behind my desk.”

“Astute observation.” Grimmjow smiles, showing off all of his teeth. “Are you upset with me?”

“I suspected you would eat in the office, but I didn’t expect this.” Ulquiorra forces the tension out of his shoulders and rounds the desk, setting a hand on top of Grimmjow’ head. “You may want to excuse yourself, though. Kyoraku-san will be coming soon and though I understand and sympathize with your dislike of humans, you cannot take that out on our clients.”

Grimmjow scoffs at him, pressing up into his touch. “I would do no such thing where they can hear me. Besides, I don’t want to go back yet. So humor me and give me lots of attention.”

“Ah,” Aizen murmurs. “Ulquiorra, might as well give me that paperwork, too.”

Ulquiorra hands the forms over before Grimmjow draws him back over, turning his attention to the loud and needy cat who demands his attention. It isn’t unusual for hybrids to want pets and compliments and generally to steal the total attention of a human in the first place, but Ulquiorra is surprised Grimmjow has taken to him at all. With the attitude he has and his general dismissal of the humans around him, Ulquiorra would have expected the exact opposite reaction from him.

Many hybrids who have come through this shelter take weeks to properly warm up to Ulquiorra no matter how often he finds himself around them. Grimmjow has never been properly cold.

The door opens minutes later, Kyoraku Shunsui stepping inside a moment later with his niece, Ise Nanao, not far behind him. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ulquiorra. We’re a bit late.”

“As you can see, I’ve been suitably distracted. I didn’t even notice that you were late.” Ulquiorra leans over Grimmjow to check the time on his monitor, huffing when Grimmjow takes the opportunity to butt his head against Ulquiorra’s chest. “Stop that. Kyoraku-san, I’ll take you straight back to get Ukitake-san. He’s quite excited about getting to leave with you today.”

Kyoraku eyes Grimmjow with raised eyebrows and the smile he shoots Ulquiorra is incorrigible. “And here you told me that you weren’t interested in adopting yourself.”

“He’s a very large cat, isn’t he? I’m surprised, Ulquiorra. I thought you might have taken in a hybrid eventually but…” Nanao nudges her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose. “But I wouldn’t have expected this. I would have expected someone much… Smaller.”

“Grimmjow is not my hybrid. He is simply a new hybrid here who has developed a fondness for me. That is all.” Ulquiorra looks down at Grimmjow, furrowing his brows when Grimmjow only smirks and butts his head lightly against Ulquiorra’s chest again. “He is determined that I not pay attention to anyone or anything else, as cats sometimes are. Come, I’ll take you back to collect Ukitake-san and his things. He’s very excited, as I said.”

“I can help.” Grimmjow’s voice is a singsong and Ulquiorra blinks down at him, not quite sure how to process this. “What? I’m probably physically stronger than that old man there.”

“Kyoraku-san is not  _ old, _ ” Ulquiorra hisses.

Kyoraku laughs and shakes his head; there’s a fondness in his gaze that almost has Ulquiorra rolling his eyes, the man’s soft spot for hybrids simply too large for Ulquiorra to understand in the same way. Whereas Ulquiorra is determined to help as many as he can, Kyoraku seems content to let hybrids like Grimmjow get away with their bad and questionable behavior even in front of company like right now. When he stretches a hand out over the desk and leaves it a fair distance away, Ulquiorra’s lips purse; Grimmjow already holds a bad opinion of the man.

He watches with uncertain eyes as Grimmjow leans in close enough to sniff, quick huffs of his breath before his shoulders slowly relax and he nods once. Taking this as the sign it is, Kyoraku rubs behind one of Grimmjow’s ears, chuckling softly when Grimmjow purrs.

“Cats can be moody and demanding, yeah, but that’s what makes ‘em so irresistible to people who have good taste.” Kyoraku grins when Grimmjow purrs louder. “I’m sorry you ended up here, kitty cat, I know it’s usually not for good reasons that anyone ends up in a shelter. Have you met my Ukitake? Hard to miss him, he’s the only rabbit here right now.”

“Mostly I keep to myself.” Grimmjow tilts his head and Kyoraku takes the hint, scratching behind his other ear. “What’s his sob story? Seems like everyone here has got one.”

“He’s sick.” The words have Grimmjow stilling, his eyes widening a touch. “Breathing problems. Treatment would have been expensive so his old owners just let it get worse.”

“We’ve been treating him here since he was left to us. By that time, he was on the verge of death and his owners no longer wanted to be responsible for him.” Ulquiorra is quiet at the memory, thoughts drifting to his hands stained with blood as he struggled to help Ukitake breathe, Aizen’s frantic voice on the phone— and then a pair of arms curl around his waist, Grimmjow’s head coming to rest against his stomach.

Nanao raises an eyebrow but then clears her throat quickly. “Correct. My uncle can afford the necessary treatments with a private doctor and wants to take care of Ukitake-san. Our family is wealthy enough that he managed to pass the qualifications. Otherwise…”

“You would not have passed the qualifications,” Ulquiorra murmurs, resting his hand on top of Grimmjow’s head, his attention fixed on the wide blue eyes that gaze up into his, registering the way Grimmjow slowly blinks his eyes. “To take in a sick hybrid, you have to be monetarily prepared to deal with their illness. It keeps them out of the hands of people like Ukitake’s former owners who had no intentions of ever caring for him.”

Grimmjow swallows so hard Ulquiorra hears his throat click. “Fuck. I’m sorry for asking.”

“Not a bad question to ask, kitty cat,” Kyoraku says. He straightens the fabric of his kimono, the one he wears almost as a jacket on warmer days such as this one, and smiles. “You were curious and it’s only the truth, right? No harm done. But if you two are done… Cuddling, then I’d like to get Ukitake home. It’s gonna take him time to settle in, and I want to give him plenty.”

“Of course. Our apologies.” Ulquiorra steps back out of the circle of Grimmjow’s arms and the cat hybrid rises fluidly to his feet, tail swishing softly in the air behind him. “Right this way, he’s just waiting in the common room with the others and saying his goodbyes.”

The hybrid quarters in the building are much larger than the office, most of the rooms down two hallways that both open up into the common room where the living room-esque space and the kitchen are, along with a large dining table to seat as many people as possible. Today, most of the hybrids are gathered in the living room with Ukitake, no doubt sharing old stories and wishing him well. He might not have been here for the longest amount of time but he was one of the kindest and wisest souls Ulquiorra had ever met, and he knows how that kind of impact has affected the others here. Everyone will be sad, but relieved, to see him go.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Gin lounging between Kira and Rangiku and rolls his eyes just a little at the sight. Predictable fox come here to spend the day with his friends.

“Ukitake-san, I’m sorry to interrupt,” he calls out, smiling just softly when Ukitake looks up at him, green eyes lit with warmth and knowing, “but Kyoraku-san has come to collect you.”

“Ah, it’s quite all right, Ulquiorra. I’ve just been saying my goodbyes.” Ukitake rises slowly from the table and Grimmjow trots up to him without any hesitation; Ulquiorra can see his nose twitching, taking in the hare’s scent. “Grimmjow, have you come to say goodbye?”

“Nah, I didn’t know you well enough to do that. I just came to help with your bags.” Grimmjow gives him a winning smile and Ulquiorra presses his fingers to his mouth to quell his own. He’s surprised to see Grimmjow actually making good on his word.

Ukitake looks just as startled but smiles softly and nods. “All right, I could use some help. My body’s not what it used to be, you know. I just have the two, can you manage?”

“Two’s nothing. I got it.” Grimmjow picks the bags up without any difficulty and Ulquiorra raises a single eyebrow at the sight. With his muscles and frame, of course Grimmjow is strong.

“Thank you.” Ukitake beams at him and then picks his way around the table and into the kitchen; his eyes are all for Kyoraku now. “So you didn’t get cold feet after all.”

“Didn’t I promise you I wouldn’t? I wore my best socks and everything.” Kyoraku’s face softens in every angle and he holds his arms out for Ukitake to step into, drawing him right up against his chest, smoothing his fingers through Ukitake’s soft white hair. “I’ve been thinking about today ever since I first came here and met you. Of course I was going to come. There was never a doubt in my mind this was going to happen.”

Ukitake makes a small noise in the back of his throat and nuzzles his face against Kyoraku’s throat. “I’m so glad to hear what I’ve been thinking all this time about you.”

“You’re my bunny, remember?” The words have Ukitake’s cheeks flushing the slightest pink but Kyoraku only grins and runs his hand over Ukitake’s long ears as gently as he can, smoothing the fur down. “Told you I wasn’t gonna let anyone else sweep you off your feet. We were meant to meet each other and now we’re meant to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Even though I’m sick?” Ukitake asks, his voice so soft, so uncertain.

Kyoraku presses his lips together and nods slowly. “I’ll be there to take care of you. Financially is easy but I’ll do all of the difficult things to make sure you’re happy. Nothing is too much to ask for your happiness. So don’t doubt for a single moment.”

“All right.” Ukitake smiles, and Ulquiorra can see the slight shimmer of tears in his eyes. “Let’s go home, then. I’ve been imagining what your home must be like for so long.”

“It’s your home, now, too. Don’t forget.” Kyoraku kisses him on the temple and Ulquiorra can visibly see all of the tension run out of Ukitake’s frame as he leans into Kyoraku’s arms. “And it’s going to be your home for good.”

Ulquiorra feels a familiar sense of relief washing over him at the sight of this. When he first came to this place, investing so much of his time and effort into each and every hybrid often felt fruitless when so few of them ever seemed to find the homes they deserved and the humans who would complete them. Seeing so many wonderful hybrids who suffered for so long only made him more uncertain that his work was important, that putting together more efficient systems was a waste of time to achieve a fruitless goal. It was hard to watch so much fall through and see the same shadows of pain in the gazes of every hybrid he meets.

But when he sees a hybrid and a human come together this way, it all makes sense to him. Every piece falls into place and he knows that the culmination of his efforts is in something as simple as this; the way Ukitake smiles as Kyoraku’s fingers smooth over his ears, Kyoraku’s adoring expression as he holds Ukitake close.

“Thank you for your assistance, Ulquiorra.” Nanao touches him on the shoulder and Ulquiorra smiles softly at her, the warmth of the situation seeming to envelope him. “You’ve been a great help to my uncle and it means a lot to me, as well.”

“Of course. It was the position I chose, after all.” Ulquiorra wishes he could explain it better, but he doesn’t think he has the ability to do such a thing.

“We won’t keep you any longer.” Kyoraku wraps his arm around Ukitake’s waist, guiding him to the door that leads to the office. “Gotta get my bunny home, after all.”

After the three of them have loaded up into their car and Grimmjow has deposited the bags safely in the trunk, Ulquiorra waves goodbye to them. He’ll see them again soon he knows because Kyoraku lives not far from his own apartment but it feels symbolic just the same; he doesn’t realize Grimmjow is hovering near until he turns and finds the cat watching him.

“Well,” he says when the silence between them stretches too thin, “that’ll be you, someday. You’ll be in the car that I wave goodbye to. As I said, I can promise you that.”

Grimmjow studies his face for a long, long moment before he slowly shakes his head. “No. Ain’t gonna happen that way no matter what you do.”

“Trust me. I will make it happen.” Ulquiorra takes Grimmjow gently by the wrist and draws him back to the doorway. “I promised you I’d find you someone who would want you just as much as Kyoraku-san wants Ukitake-san, and I meant it. Nothing is going to stop me from doing that.”

Grimmjow does not argue with him, and Ulquiorra breathes a sigh of relief. He  _ will _ make it true.


	4. Chapter 4

Grimmjow does not do jealousy well; he does not  _ do jealousy _ as far as he is concerned, never having anything in his life permanent enough or worth keeping to himself to have to worry about. So when he finally drags himself out of his room around noon, no longer interested in sleeping half of the day away, his plans are firmly on finding one of the other hybrids to talk to. A few of them are worth indulging in conversation and Gin is always up for chattering away even if he spends his time sandwiched between Kira and Rangiku like the three of them are connected at the hip. Grimmjow had heard something about that woman from a few days ago being interested in Rangiku, so maybe that has something to do with it.

Ulquiorra tries to keep him updated on the comings and goings of their clients, telling Grimmjow about it each morning when he comes to visit him. For the most part, Grimmjow indulges him but rarely listens to the details and mostly refuses to remember the names on the basis of he has nothing to do with humans and none of them are worth remembering in the long-run. He just wants whatever breakfast treat Ulquiorra has brought him and the ear rubs he’s grown used to.

The place could be worse, he supposes. It’s a clean building, the two humans who work here are kind enough, and the hybrids seem happy. All in all, Grimmjow could have done a lot worse picking out a spot to hide away from the police who would have picked him up otherwise.

Gin has taken over the mound of pillows in the corner of the living room when Grimmjow finds him, Kira on one side and Rangiku absent, though a quick glance toward the backyard area reveals her out there with a few mother hybrids. Grimmjow takes the spot that would have been hers otherwise, stealing one of the strawberries from the bowl in Gin’s lap.

“You could ask,” Gin tells him even though he knows very well Grimmjow never will; that ever-present smile of his says it, after all. “Where have you been hiding all day?”

“Napping. Not much to do around here but that bed’s comfortable and I have a lot of sleep to catch on, so.” Grimmjow rolls his shoulders, working some of the stiffness out of them. “Heard your girl’s probably on her way out soon. You gotta be happy about that, right?”

Gin nods without hesitation, licking berry juice off of his fingers before offering a strawberry to Kira. “Of course I am. I don’t  _ want _ hybrids to be stuck here, Grimmjow. I know you’ve had quite some bad experiences, we all have, but having a happy home is preferable to this.”

“I don’t know. This is probably the best place I’ve ever stayed for any extended period of time.” He’s coming up on two weeks in a few more days, and he’s definitely suffered worse in every home he’s ever lived in even when he was a child. “But if you say so. I’m not gonna argue.”

Kira takes the strawberry from Gin’s fingers, popping it in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully before he speaks. “If someone wanted to adopt you, what would you do?”

“I don’t know, say no?” Grimmjow shrugs. “I doubt that’s going to happen, though.”

“You should trust Ulquiorra’s judgment and hard work more than you realize. He’s much more accomplished at his job than any other shelter employee in the city.” Seeing Grimmjow’s raised eyebrows, Gin only grins and nods triumphant, the fluffy weight of his tail flopping behind him. “I’ve seen the numbers. They’re public record in accordance with the law. Ulquiorra’s percentage is much higher than the others. He’s an excellent success story.”

“It helps that all the hybrids here love him so much. We know he’s not going to lead us astray or put us with a bad family.” Kira’s tail wags the more he speaks and Grimmjow presses his lips into a thin line, giving a short nod at the words.

He doesn’t know why it bothers him to hear them talk like this, not when he  _ knows _ the praise is probably well-earned on Ulquiorra’s part. Much as he wants to be point out that life is rarely kind to hybrids, he knows these two are not going to listen to him, and Gin has no reason to believe him when Aizen, for all intents and purposes, seems every bit the bumbling Prince Charming that Gin paints him as when he speaks of him. Certainly, the man does nothing to ping Grimmjow’s radar when it comes to humans no one should trust.

It still makes something in his stomach twinge but he ignores it, stealing another one of Gin’s strawberries. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. No one’s been interested so far.”

“You’re unusual for a cat, I think is what provides the challenge. See.” Gin points across the room to the loveseat arranged against the wall where Yoruichi is napping, taking up both cushions for herself. “She’s the right size and shape for a cat hybrid. They’re well-liked when they’re petite and cute. You’re… Not small in the least. I think it makes people antsy.”

“Good. That’ll keep them away,” Grimmjow mutters; Gin hands him the strawberry before he can steal it and he takes it, but he pouts at not being able to steal it just the same.

Kira leans around Gin to look at him properly, or the best he can from beneath all that long blond hair of his. “I don’t think it’ll keep everyone away, though. There are always exceptions and if all else fails, I wouldn’t doubt for a moment that Ulquiorra would—”

He’s cut off by the sound of the door leading to the office opening, their hybrid hearing picking it up better than most people would have been able to. Grimmjow recognizes the soft footsteps that belong to Ulquiorra and watches as the human walks into the living room, scanning the space with a careful gaze that tells Grimmjow he’s here to check on all of them. Though not one of his regular duties, Ulquiorra does it just the same to make sure no one needs him and that nothing has happened over the last few hours that everyone has been up.

Grimmjow nods to him in greeting when Ulquiorra glances at him, wondering if he should offer him a strawberry, when the sliding glass door leading to the backyard slides open. “Ulqui!”

The voice is one Grimmjow is familiar with; Orihime is a cat hybrid as well, a pretty young woman who had been through just as many awful things as every single one of them has though it seems not to have affected her general enthusiasm and optimism much. She bounds up to Ulquiorra without hesitation, completely trusting him in all ways and Grimmjow watches the interaction question, his tail curling slowly around his own wrist.

“Orihime.” Ulquiorra’s expression softens around the edges and Grimmjow’s brows furrow slightly. “Is there something you find yourself in need of?”

Orihime takes one of Ulquiorra’s hands in both of hers and, Grimmjow reflects, such an action would have earned him quite the punishment in his last few homes. “Come outside and look. There are robins nesting in the tree in the corner of the yard. There are eggs!”

“No one has gone near them, I hope,” Ulquiorra says, allowing himself to be lead across the room, offering no resistance to Orihime’s gentle guidance.

“Not at all!” Orihime beams at him. “I just thought you’d like to see.”

As soon as the two of them disappear, Ulquiorra pausing to close the door behind them, Kira clears his throat. “So, what was the wager about those two again?”

“Wager?” Grimmjow tilts his head. “What wager are you talking about?”

Gin sighs and passes the bowl of strawberries to Kira. “There are bets around the shelter that Ulquiorra will adopt Orihime one day and the wager is simply based on  _ when _ he is going to do this. She’s been very friendly with him since day one, the first hybrid here who gave him a chance without being afraid of him. They’ve been like this since then.”

“You don’t say,” Grimmjow mutters, his tail curling from his wrist to flick through the air.

“Oh?” Gin glances at him; Grimmjow can see a sliver of blue beneath his eyelids. “Is something wrong, Grimmjow? Your tone of voice has shifted somewhat.”

“I didn’t realize the two of them were that close.” _ Why do I give a shit? Of course she likes Ulquiorra. Everyone fucking loves him.  _ “That’s all. What’s the current bet going?”

Gin’s unimpressed expression seeps beneath his skin and Grimmjow grits his teeth together when Gin smiles at him, a slow and sweet grin that makes his skin itch. “Do you want to join in on the bet? I’m sure he will, one day, so it’s worth taking a chance.”

“They’ve been so close since day one I just  _ know _ he’s going to do it one day.” Kira offers Grimmjow the bowl, but Grimmjow shoves it away and stands, ignoring the way his tail strikes at the air behind him. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did we say something? Grimmjow?”

“I need some air.” And with that he walks toward the door, yanking it open.

The backyard area is large, has to be for the amount of hybrids the shelter can hold, and even though the air is growing slightly chillier each day, there are still plenty of people out here enjoying the sun that beats down warm from the sky. Orihime and Ulquiorra are in the corner of the yard, Orihime pointing toward the tree and turning to Ulquiorra, talking with her hands, all vibrant expressions and personality. They’d suit each other so well, honestly.

Grimmjow shakes his head and stalks across the yard, ignoring the strange looks the other hybrids give him. It’s only when Ulquiorra turns to look at him that he cares at all, walking right up to him, putting himself bodily between Ulquiorra and Orihime.

“Did you want to see the nest, Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra asks, though there is no ignoring the slight uncertainty in his voice, the confusion etched into his soft features.

“It’s there!” Orihime points toward the tree once more and Grimmjow humors her, scanning the branches until he spots the bird’s nest, a collection of fabric and twigs and leaves. “There are three eggs inside, can you see? Oh, I’m so excited. We’ll have baby birds.”

“Three, huh?” Grimmjow snakes an arm around Ulquiorra’s shoulders, pulling the human into his side, ignoring the small surprise noise Ulquiorra makes. “That’s… Really something.”

Orihime doesn’t even notice; she just turns to him and nods, brushing long strands of orange back out of her eyes. “We’ve had kittens before and there were baby bunnies one summer, but it’s been a long time since we’ve had baby birds. I love listening to them sing.”

“She’s quite a bird lover,” Ulquiorra says and Grimmjow nods slowly, his jaw twitching. “Bird watching here is fairly decent. The hybrids tend to draw birds to the area.”

“That’s nice.” Grimmjow tilts his head, presses his cheek against the top of Ulquiorra’s head.  _ Why do I care? It doesn’t matter to me what he does. He doesn’t matter to me. _ Just the same, he drags his cheek along the top of Ulquiorra’s head. “I don’t think I have a favorite animal, just any of them are fine. I guess peacocks are cool. Flashy colors.”

Ulquiorra’s hand in the small of his back has him tensing, waiting for Ulquiorra to push him away, but his hand just rests there. “Of course you love peacocks.”

“There are all sorts of beautifully colored birds. I have a book I’ll have to show you some time.” Orihime claps her hands together. “Sorry for dragging you outside, Ulqui, that’s all I wanted to show you. I’ll let you know when they hatch so you can come see the babies.”

“Don’t forget to name them,” Grimmjow tells her just to have something to say.

He more or less forcibly drags Ulquiorra back inside, his cheek pressed firmly into Ulquiorra’s hair which makes walking somewhat difficult. His destination is not really planned— he didn’t think about this that far ahead— but the hand in the small of his back propels him forward into the office, Aizen looking up startled from the coffee pot.

“Something up?” he asks, raising his mug to his lips.

“Go talk to Gin for a few minutes. I would like the office, Aizen-san.” Ulquiorra manages to sound polite even though there is an edge in his voice Grimmjow does not recognize.

It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and not in a good way.

“Right, okay.” Aizen leaves the room instantly, the quiet deafening as soon as the door shuts.

Ulquiorra points toward the couch and Grimmjow sits down, his tail curling around his waist while his ears flatten back on top of his head. Something is wrong; the tone of Ulquiorra’s voice is off and the expression on his face is less than kind, strange for someone like him. Everything about this puts Grimmjow on edge, drags his guard up even though he thought he didn’t need it where Ulquiorra was concerned. The door, and the world beyond, looks inviting.

If he ran, it’s not like Ulquiorra would be able to catch him.

“You scent marked me and dragged me away from Orihime. I doubt she noticed such rude actions on your part, but I certainly did.” Ulquiorra sits down on the edge of the coffee table, their knees almost close enough to touch. Grimmjow doesn’t like feeling caged in like this. “Why?”

He lowers his chin into his chest, his ears pressing down hard against his scalp. “I dunno.”

“You do know. You are not stupid, Grimmjow. You may be a bit thoughtless when it comes to certain things, but you are not stupid.” The edge in Ulquiorra’s voice deepens and Grimmjow curls tighter into himself. He doesn’t  _ like _ this tone of voice coming from the human in front of him, not like this. Not because he did something wrong.

_ I always do something wrong, in the end. _

“I just… Didn’t like it.” The thought is atrocious; Grimmjow doesn’t  _ care _ about any human, not about Ulquiorra, not about Aizen. No one matters to him except himself. “I don’t know, I’m—”

Ulquiorra cuts him off. “What didn’t you like about it? What was wrong that upset you?”

Grimmjow fidgets, fingers digging into his thighs as he stares down at the floor. “I don’t know. I just… I didn’t like her hanging off of you like that, I guess. I don’t know why it bothered me.”

“My job is to take care of all of the hybrids in this shelter. Orihime-san enjoys physical contact much like any cat hybrid does. Much like you do.” The words grate on Grimmjow more than they have any right to;  _ we aren’t the same, don’t say we’re the same. _ “If it made me uncomfortable, I would set the clear boundary and she would respect it. But I don’t mind. Orihime-san is very kind and she asks very little of me. Taking care of her is what I am supposed to do.”

“All the hybrids, huh?” Grimmjow hates the low growl in his words, the anger, the frustration seeping through his body.  _ I shouldn’t fucking care! _ “So I’m not different than the rest of them to you? We all just one big happy fucking family?”

Ulquiorra’s sharp intake of breath forces Grimmjow to look up and he flinches away from the shock in Ulquiorra’s face, the— The disappointment in his eyes. “Grimmjow… I would never play favorites. It would hurt so many feelings if I did something like that.”

“You do nice shit for me you don’t do for them, don’t you?” Grimmjow presses and Ulquiorra presses his lips together, saying nothing. “You bring me things, you pay me special attention. Don’t you? Or do you do it for all of them?”

The soft sigh Ulquiorra releases makes him feel  _ awful _ but he can’t let it go. “When I go grocery shopping, I have a list of favorites. They make their own food for the most part, we don’t need to monitor them. It’s easier to bring you breakfast because I know you won’t be up early to eat with the others and because you don’t, in general,  _ like _ to eat with them.”

_ Oh. _ Grimmjow doesn’t know why the bottom of his stomach falls out, but it does. “So I’m just like them to you. I really am. You don’t look at me differently in any way.”

“As I said, playing favorites is wrong.” Ulquiorra stretches a hand out toward him but Grimmjow jerks away from him. “Why are you upset about this? You told me you don’t like humans. You don’t think I can find you a home, you don’t respect my abilities like the others do. I was under the impression I was simply good for physical affection and food.”

“I don’t think that little of you!” Grimmjow twists away from him, shoving himself to his feet, his tail lashing madly at the air behind him, his hands curled into fists. He wants to  _ hit _ something. Not Ulquiorra, but  _ something _ he can break. “You think the fucking worst of me, don’t you?”

Before Ulquiorra can respond, Grimmjow aims a punch at the coffee machine, the closest thing to him, the one thing he knows he can shatter with a single punch, the satisfaction—

“Grimmjow!” Ulquiorra is off his feet but it’s too late, Grimmjow’s knuckles shattering the thick glass, sending shards and boiling hot coffee all over the table and the floor.

A yowl leaves his lips before he can stop it, hugging his wounded hand to his chest, staggering away from the mess he’s made. Ulquiorra stands there silently for a moment, eyes wide, lips parted in shock, and then he moves, sweeping the machine and the contents of the table onto the ground without a moment’s hesitation. Grimmjow opens his mouth to ask him what he thinks he’s doing when Aizen rushes into the room, Gin behind him.

“What happened?” Aizen demands, scanning the scene before he looks to Grimmjow, holding his bleeding and burnt hand to his chest. “Ulquiorra, what—”

“An accident. He knocked the coffee pot over.” Ulquiorra is already moving, tissues in hand as he walks up to Grimmjow and dabs away the blood and coffee on his skin. “It was my fault, I shouldn’t have distracted him. Can you two please clean up? He needs medical attention.”

“Of course.” Aizen’s eyes soften as he looks at Grimmjow, though Gin’s expression remains guarded. “Take good care of him, Ulquiorra, he looks terrified.”

“Ulquiorra, are you certain you do not need assistance?” Gin asks, staring straight at Grimmjow.

_ His hearing. He heard us arguing and he knows what I did. _

“I’m fine.” Ulquiorra leads Grimmjow around the mess and into the hallway, down to his bedroom where he’s left sitting on the edge of his bed until Ulquiorra returns with a First Aid kid, closing the door behind him. “You could have seriously injured yourself doing that.”

“Why do you care?” Grimmjow spits out, hissing when Ulquiorra reaches for his hand.

To his surprise, Ulquiorra takes him by the wrist anyway. “You can hurt me if it makes you feel better, but I need to take care of your hand… And no, I do not think the worst of you.”

“I just punched a coffee pot. You could if you wanted to.” He hisses again when Ulquiorra dabs alcohol over the wounds, wiping away blood as he does. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I mean I know why I did what I did, I just wanted to hit something. I just wanted to break something—”

“Did you want to hurt me and chose a suitable alternative?” Ulquiorra asks, voice light.

Immediately, Grimmjow shakes his head. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I even thought that.”

“That’s good. I didn’t think you did, but I had to ask.” Ulquiorra sits on the bed with him, tends to his hand even though Grimmjow should be left alone with nothing but his tongue to clean the wound and soothe the pain it brings him. “You’re upset with me. You were angry that I said those things, and you’re angry with my words about the other hybrids. Did you want me to play favorites, put you above them? I’m afraid I don’t understand what you want of me.”

Grimmjow frowns at the question, lowering his head. “I just… I guess I thought you already were, and I… It’s  _ stupid _ but I guess I got a little jealous seeing you with Orihime.”

“She is a good person with a good heart and I do what I can for her. I would for anyone, that much you should know.” Ulquiorra is quiet as he wraps gauze around Grimmjow’s hand, carefully tying it at the ends to keep it in place. “Between the two of us… Maybe I do favor you over the others, somewhat. I spend more personal, one-on-one time with you than them. It’s circumstantial, perhaps… But you’re also the only hybrid I let eat at my desk.”

_ I’m such a fucking idiot. He’s going to hate me. _ “I guess that’s something, then.”

“I told talk to the others the way I talk to you. I don’t call them handsome or pretty.” Ulquiorra examines the rest of his arm, no doubt looking for more wounds, so methodical and careful of him, considerate of his pain. “Orihime-san likes to take me by the hand when she has something to show me, but the others do not cling to me the way that you do.”

Grimmjow hates having to hear it all out loud, how foolish he was to overreact, how even-tempered Ulquiorra can be over his temper tantrum. “I’m sorry, Quiorra. I’m an idiot.”

Ulquiorra’s face softens and he sits back on the bed, patting his lap. “Come here and lie down. You’re upset and I think my presence will be soothing to you.”

“You sure about that?” Grimmjow asks. “Me breaking the coffee pot didn’t scare you?”

“You don’t frighten me, Grimmjow. You could not.” Ulquiorra pats his lap once more. “Here.”

Grimmjow is grateful for the command, resting his head on Ulquiorra’s thigh, sighing when those familiar fingers sift through his hair, brushing it back out of his eyes. It feels so  _ good _ and he hates,  _ hates _ that he almost lost this over his own ignorance. “Thank you, Quiorra. For not… Being afraid of me or throwing me out for that.”

“I believe in second chances. You were upset, and I failed to remedy that when I should have listened more carefully.” Ulquiorra tickles him under the chin and Grimmjow nips at his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt the others, but I’ll try to spend more time with you, if that is what you want.”

_ I don’t deserve that, and you know it.  _ “I dunno what I want. I guess I’d like that.”

“You’re a very precocious kitten, you know that? But I supposed I don’t dislike that about you.” Ulquiorra rubs his ears until Grimmjow purrs, rubbing his cheek against Ulquiorra’s thigh, shamelessly scent marking him as thanks for the attention. “Ah, that. Cats scent mark what they consider to be theirs, do they not? I suppose this is your way of accepting me, finally.”

Grimmjow shrugs; he doesn’t want to think about it right now. He’s thought enough for one day.

Still, Ulquiorra’s smile is soft as he looks down at him. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

_ Fuck, _ Grimmjow thinks even as he nuzzles Ulquiorra’s fingers.  _ I went and got attached to him. _

He’s in too deep.


	5. Chapter 5

A week has passed without any incident on Grimmjow’s part and Ulquiorra is relieved that there have been no repeat occurrences with the violent behavior. Lashing out at an object for the first time is something Ulquiorra can wave away without much guilt on his part, especially when he knows Grimmjow has suffered and that jealousy does not appear to be an emotion he has much experience with. They have a newer coffee pot in the office the next day, but Gin never stops sending Ulquiorra questioning glances, trying to corner him alone in rooms to ask him about what really happened and why he insists on letting Grimmjow get away with it.

Such an act on the part of anyone else would have earned them a reprimand and Ulquiorra probably should have made a note of it in Grimmjow’s file, but he really wants to believe it was a one-time occurrence. Grimmjow has been on his best behavior since then; Ulquiorra had come to check on him one morning to find him and Orihime sitting together, Grimmjow appearing to listen intently while Orihime showed him the book Ulquiorra had given her one Christmas. It was an encyclopedia of birds, and it had quickly become her most valued possession.

Ulquiorra knows, distantly and in the back of his mind, that most of the hybrids in the shelter believe he plans on adopting Orihime one day. Such a thing will never occur, not now and not ever; he finds his peace and solace taking care of the shelter and finding every hybrid a suitable home, and that means he has learned what each of them truly needs. He couldn’t give Orihime the doting attention she deserves that she would blossom beneath.

The bell above the door dings softly and Ulquiorra lifts his head from his computer, a soft sigh of relief leaving his lips when he sees the familiar woman standing in the doorway, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. Hinamori Momo had come a while ago to inquire about one of their hybrids before an emergency with a friend had deterred her from coming back for a follow-up visit, and Ulquiorra had half-wondered if she, like many others before her, would change her mind with the distance. Such a thing was hardly unheard of.

When she had come here searching for a hybrid, Ulquiorra’s mind had been unfairly set at ease. Petite and soft-spoken, dark chestnut hair gathered back from her face and deep brown eyes that glittered with happiness, Hinamori evoked a sensation of peace and tranquility around her. Of course she hit it off with Rangiku. Ulquiorra could hardly picture a human more suited to taking her in than the woman who’s come to hopefully collect her today.

“Ms. Hinamori, you’re back.” Ulquiorra stands and gathers her file, walking toward the couch and wondering where Aizen has gotten off to. Usually, he handles the follow-up visits since all he has to do is refer to Ulquiorra’s notes. “I hope your personal emergency went well?”

Hinamori smiles kindly at him as she sits beside him, turned slightly to face him. “It did. A friend was very ill, but he’s out of the hospital now. How has Rangiku been? Hopefully she wasn’t too upset about my delay in returning to inquire about her.”

The concern for Rangiku relaxes Ulquiorra in more ways than one. _You were worried about her._ “She’s just fine. She was initially concerned when I told her there was a medical emergency, but it soothed her to know you were not the one afflicted.”

“That’s a relief! I read the material you gave me while I was gone and I was worried she’d be upset that I was so suddenly gone.” Hinamori presses a hand to the base of her throat, exhaling slowly and steadily. “It’s good to know she wasn’t upset. Has she been otherwise okay?”

Ulquiorra pauses, setting the file down on the coffee table. It can wait for a moment. “She’s been fine. I wanted to discuss her with you, actually, because we didn’t have as much of a chance during the initial meeting. Rangiku has a troubled past, as I’m sure you’re well aware. Most hybrids in our shelter have some sort of issues in the past that led to them being here.”

“Of course.” Hinamori’s smile saddens somewhat, but she doesn’t completely lose it just the same. “If they came from happy homes, they would still be there and not here.”

“Correct. You understand the reality of the situation, which is a relief.” Ulquiorra hates this part, always does. Disclosing the personal trauma so many of his charges suffered as a result of humans who did not love them enough, or did not love them _at all,_ never feels less than scummy to him. It feels like a violation of their personal privacy even if the law dictates he needs to give surface explanations. “Rangiku was living on the streets when she was very young. She only had two homes before coming here. There were… Sexual assault charges in the first and general abuse in the second. She was on the streets when she came to us.”

Hinamori’s face drains of color and Ulquiorra tries hard not to wince at her reaction, knowing all too well how this can sound. “That’s horrible. She’s so sweet, I never would have imagined.”

“She is a lovely hybrid, very friendly and kind. I want to emphasize that especially. What she suffered has not made her cruel in any way.” Ulquiorra has to stop himself from going overboard when it comes to this and hopes that his naturally stoic and soft voice makes him seem detached even though he loves all of these hybrids so dearly. “She’s a perfect companion.”

“You don’t have to give me a sales pitch, Cifer-san.” Hinamori gently pats him on the hand and Ulquiorra blinks at her, not sure what to say. “I understand perfectly. Now, why don’t we go over the paperwork? It’s all for naught if I didn’t pass, anyway.”

Ulquiorra laughs softly and picks up the file, pulling out the application Hinamori insisted on filling out within half an hour of speaking to Rangiku. “Of course you passed. The email you sent us with the photographs of your apartment came through just fine, and it’s large enough to house a hybrid alongside yourself. Rangiku is very excited about coming to live with you.”

He sees a flash of emotion in Hinamori’s eyes he doesn’t quite catch before she smiles, soft and serene like something peaceful has settled into her soul. “I’m so glad to hear that. I was worried that running off so suddenly would be a point of detraction.”

“Not at all. We aren’t holding that against you.” Ulquiorra gathers her application and Rangiku’s paperwork, stacking it all up neatly before setting it back in the file. Then he holds it out to Hinamori, who takes it carefully. “These are yours now. I have her paperwork on file in case you ever need a copy of anything. Shall we go to collect her now?”

Hinamori stands so quickly that Ulquiorra finds himself startled. “Of course! I’ve missed her.”

 _Thank God._ Ulquiorra steps around her to escort her into the living space for the sheltered hybrids. “Right this way. She’s been waiting ever since you called yesterday afternoon.”

It doesn’t matter that the second meeting does not necessitate adoption, that Hinamori could have come to retract her application or to say she had otherwise changed her mind; Rangiku had been over the moon the moment Ulquiorra told her that Hinamori had resolved her personal situation and would be coming in the morning. It also meant Aizen and Gin had come earlier than usual so Gin could spend as much time with her as possible before she left.

Everything is livelier today; the other hybrids are certain Rangiku is leaving today as well, and Ulquiorra is relieved she is for the sake of not being able to handle her crushed expression if that were not the truth. All of the hybrids are gathered in the living room with Rangiku nearish the center of the rough circle, Gin and Kira flanking her. As soon as the door opens, her head swivels to the side and her face lights up from within.

Her reaction is distinctly different from Ukitake’s; she bounds to her feet and meets Hinamori halfway across the kitchen, almost vibrating with excitement. Her tail swishes beautifully behind her, her ears perked all the way up. “You’re really here! Ulquiorra told me you were coming, but… It seemed almost too good to be true. I was worried about you, too! Are you okay?”

“It was a friend who was ill, not me. It’s nice to see you again, Rangiku.” Hinamori’s eyes soften and Ulquiorra thinks he sees the faintest shimmer of tears. “Come here, I’ve missed you.”

The moment she opens her arms, Rangiku almost leaps into them, her own coiling tight around Hinamori's shoulders as she scrubs her cheek against the top of Hinamori’s head. She mewls softly, clinging to the human woman as a deep purr starts up in her chest, rumbling through her entire body. Hinamori laughs, and Ulquiorra can hear the catch in her voice as she hugs Rangiku in return, running her hands up and down the cat’s back affectionately.

It’s a beautiful sight, and it heals some part of Ulquiorra’s soul to see them both so happy to be with one another. “Rangiku, not to interrupt, but are you packed and ready to go?”

“I am!” Rangiku slips out of Hinamori’s arms so she can hug him, ruffling his hair. “Take care, Ulquiorra. Don’t let Gin act up now that I’ll be gone.”

“Of course not,” Ulquiorra reassures her. “I would say your final goodbyes so you can go.”

Rangiku does just that, gathering her two bags and exchanging hugs with the other hybrids. She hugs Orihime, Kira, and finally Gin the longest, and there’s no mistaking the slight droop in Gin’s ears even as he smiles and presses his cheek against hers. It’s hard on both of them, and he knows that; parting like this is bittersweet, but Gin has always wanted the best for her and Ulquiorra is proud he’s able to be so bold about that.

“I’m ready now.” Rangiku shifts her bags around so she can hold Hinamori’s hand, her sapphire gaze positively radiant as she beams at Ulquiorra. “Thank you so much for everything.”

Ulquiorra escorts them through the office and out of the front door, closing it behind them and letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He’s surprised when a pair of arms slide around his shoulders from behind, a chin coming to rest on top of his head, but he’s learned to prepare for this impromptu embraces and only touches the hands linked at the base of his throat, fingers folding neatly over Grimmjow’s own.

“That was what you wanted, right?” Grimmjow asks him.

“Yes, that was what I wanted.” Ulquiorra turns around to look up at the tall cat, who blinks down at him placidly and slowly in what Ulquiorra knows is a gesture of genuine affection. “I’ll apologize ahead of time for Gin if he seems unusually moody the next week or so. He and Rangiku were close before Aizen adopted him. This will be hard for him.”

Grimmjow nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I get that. We talked about it.”

“Let me see your hand.” Ulquiorra hands his own out and, after a moment, Grimmjow sets his hand in Ulquiorra’s, gaze cast down and away. The cuts on his hand from the coffee machine have scabbed over and appear to be healing just fine, and Ulquiorra is relieved. “Good. I’m glad to see you’re healing. How do you feel? How has your day been?”

“I’m good, and it’s been… Uneventful, but that’s fine. It’s nice to have lazy days when everything before was so unpredictable.” Grimmjow twines his fingers with Ulquiorra’s own, and Ulquiorra lets him, unperturbed. Recently, he’s come to enjoy Grimmjow’s need for touch, for physical reassurance. “Orihime was having a rough day so I spent some time with her to try to cheer her up. Everyone has bad days.”

Ulquiorra’s eyes widen a touch at the words before he smiles, stretching up a hand to stroke the side of Grimmjow’s face gently. “That was very good of you to do. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Grimmjow leans into the touch gratefully. “I’m working on it. I think I’m doing okay.”

“You’re doing more than just okay. You’re doing wonderfully, and I am very proud.” Ulquiorra smiles when Grimmjow mewls softly, scrubbing his cheek into Ulquiorra’s palm as his eyes slip closed. “Do you want me to come sit with you for a while? I am caught up on paperwork.”

“That’d be nice… Aizen’s been in the room all morning keeping an eye on Gin, I’m sure they’ll be all laid up together now that Rangiku’s gone.” Grimmjow takes Ulquiorra by the wrist, leading him through the office and back into the living area.

Sure enough, Gin has dragged Aizen over to the mound of pillows he always claims as his own when he’s here, his ears flattened down on the top of his head as he sits curled up tight in Aizen’s protective embrace. Kira is nearby as well and Ulquiorra wonders what Gin is going to do when Kira is adopted, if he’s going to be able to cope with not being able to see his friends as much as he likes to. In a way, it’s bittersweet that Aizen works here. It makes letting go that much harder even though Gin personally knows how important it is.

Ulquiorra will bring him something in the morning. It won’t make things easier, but it might be a good idea to offer Gin some kind of comfort at this time.

For now, though, he sits down in one of the chairs and allows Grimmjow to clamber up into his lap, running his hand up and down Grimmjow’s broad back as the cat settles in against him. It was initially not something Ulquiorra thought he would enjoy, having Grimmjow sitting on him in such a way, but he’d been convinced into trying it just once and finds that the warm and happy weight of a purring cat is more soothing than he thought possible. He thinks Grimmjow must get something from it too from the way he purrs softly as soon as his head comes to rest against Ulquiorra’s chest, his long blue lashes fluttering before Ulquiorra starts petting him.

He’s such a lovely hybrid, all things considered. The jealousy thing alerted Ulquiorra to problems he might need to deal with but he’s been good since then, and Ulquiorra has realized he should have handled it better. That Grimmjow needs to be handled with careful hands, loving hands that understand he’s been through too much in his life and that he’s not used to dealing with positive attention, that losing it frightens him. Ulquiorra understands that better, now.

He’ll have to add plenty of notes to Grimmjow’s file, but only important ones. Only careful ones that are going to alert owners to exactly what they have to do to earn his love.

“Such a pretty kitten,” Ulquiorra murmurs, watching Grimmjow lean into his touch, his ears perking up at Ulquiorra’s soft honeyed praise. “You’ve been so good, Grimm.”

The nickname has Grimmjow mewling softly up at him, fingers curling loosely in the collar of Ulquiorra’s shirt. “Thanks. S’nice, having someone say they’re proud of me.”

Ulquiorra’s chest seizes at the words. “I’ll make sure you tell you every day, then.”

Grimmjow’s purring deepens and he presses his face against the side of Ulquiorra’s neck, the vibrations of his lips tickling Ulquiorra’s skin in a pleasant way. It’s… Nice, just sitting here and stroking Grimmjow’s face and hair, rubbing behind his ears until he mewls sweetly and tightens his grip on Ulquiorra’s shirt. From the loveseat, Yoruichi watches them with a raised eyebrow and Ulquiorra merely cocks his head at her, feeling Grimmjow’s warm breath on his neck.

“Ulquiorra.” Aizen’s soft voice catches his attention and he turns his head toward his boss. “I’ll set the sign out front to say we’re momentarily closed, but I think I’m going to take Gin home for the day. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes or so.”

Slowly, Ulquiorra shakes his head. “You should stay with him. I can close up.”

“Are you sure?” Aizen frowns, and on his strikingly handsome face the expression seems almost mournful. “Gin just needs the comfort of home, but if you need me to stay—”

“I don’t. I can handle everything here accordingly, Aizen-san. Take Gin home and make sure he gets some rest and some comfort. It’s been a difficult day for him.” Ulquiorra hopes _someone_ will watch over Kira for the evening if Gin is going to be gone.

“Sorry, Izuru.” Gin’s voice is so soft and sad that it breaks Ulquiorra’s heart.

Kira shakes his head, leaning over to butt his forehead gently against Gin’s. “Don’t be. Go home and get some rest, and maybe come back in a couple of days when you feel better, okay?”

Gin nods and pats Kira on the cheek before standing, grasping Aizen’s arm as soon as Aizen stands. The two of them leave and Ulquiorra settles back into stroking Grimmjow’s ears, startled to look down and find the cat watching him carefully, his purring a lower volume now.

“What is it?” Ulquiorra asks him, running his fingertip down the bridge of Grimmjow’s nose.

It’s a sweet spot, and Grimmjow’s eyelashes flutter for him. “Just wondering why you don’t have a hybrid of your own if you like taking care of everyone so much.”

“I’ve never thought I was particularly well-suited for longterm care. I can handle what is necessary here and can take care of all of you, but a more personal relationship, I believe, would be difficult.” Ulquiorra taps him on the end of the nose and smiles when Grimmjow scrunches his nose up at him. “It would be difficult to have a hybrid when you still scent me.”

Grimmjow flushes a little at that, then nips Ulquiorra’s finger. “Well, if I don’t have to share…”

Ulquiorra is still certain he’s not cut out for what it takes to care for a hybrid in the longterm… But God, if Grimmjow isn’t making him think about it these days.


	6. Chapter 6

When Grimmjow wanders into the office to find out where Ulquiorra has been hiding out this morning— he’d waited until  _ noon _ to see him— Ulquiorra shoves a handful of paperwork into the top drawer of his desk. The sight is suspicious but the man looks frazzled more this morning than usual, so Grimmjow chalks it up to the fact that Gin has been upset the last few days about Rangiku’s adoption. Though Hinamori had reached out to Aizen so their hybrids could remain in contact even though Rangiku was no longer living at the shelter, Gin’s sour mood had been almost impossible to fully shake; he’d gotten used to seeing her every day as often as he liked and now he has to make plans to go out of the city to spend time with her.

“Having a bad morning?” Grimmjow fixes himself a cup of coffee and drags up a chair next to Ulquiorra’s desk, butting his forehead against Ulquiorra’s shoulder. “Pet me.”

Ulquiorra sighs softly, his expression almost pleading as he meets Grimmjow’s eyes. “I know you want to spend time with me, and I understand why, but I am very busy today and I simply do not have the time. I can make it up to you tomorrow if you like, but—”

Grimmjow sighs at him, bumping Ulquiorra’s shoulder harder. “Petting me relaxes  _ you, _ too. And you look like you need it before you end up ripping your own hair out.”   


“I’ve never done such a thing in my life.” But Ulquiorra’s eyes soften and he sets his hand between Grimmjow’s ears, fingers massaging his scalp, and Grimmjow can see the tension easing slowly from his muscles with the motion. “I apologize. I was very short with you.”

“It’s fine. We all have bad days.” And all things considered, Grimmjow hates to admit it but Ulquiorra is not  _ his _ human so he can’t very well go around acting like he is.

“That doesn’t give me an excuse to treat you poorly. I should have at least come up to see you this morning. Oh! But I did remember.” Ulquiorra fishes a paper bag out from under his desk with his free hand and Grimmjow snatches it, fishing out the cinnamon rolls that are still warm. “I won’t let such a thing happen again. How was Gin after I left yesterday? Aizen-san stayed late with him so he could be with Kira, but it seemed inappropriate to ask about it.”

_ And yet you’re asking  _ me _ about it, aren’t you? _ Grimmjow smiles ruefully at him around a bite of cinnamon roll, swiping icing off of his lips with his tongue. “Fine for the most part. He’s mostly just moping around and making Kira sadder than he already acts.”

“Well… Hopefully things will be better after this weekend.” Ulquiorra’s fingers drift behind one of Grimmjow’s ears, smoothing the fur down until Grimmjow purrs softly at him. “It’ll be just me because Aizen and Gin will be staying at Hinamori’s home so he can see Rangiku.”

“I really underestimated how much he was hung up on her leaving. I knew he’d be sad, but it’s been, what, three days? And he gets to see her again, soon.” To someone who’s only just recently learned what attachment even feels like, Grimmjow is perplexed.

He thinks he sees a flicker of something soft and sad in Ulquiorra’s eyes. “It’s not an easy thing for me to explain, or else I would. But Gin and Rangiku have always been very close. She’s his very best friend, and I’m sure you can understand that a fox hybrid would not be used to having friends, much less one who cares for him so very much.”

The thought makes Grimmjow’s skin itch in a thousand different ways because he knows all about the rarer and more exotic hybrids, how much shit they tend to go through. Foxes are heavily desired, too many sick fucks with creepy tastes trying to get their hands on them and Grimmjow can almost tell that Gin had gone through  _ something _ before finding himself under Aizen’s care. Not that he knows what that something is, given the fact that Gin rarely if ever talks to him in a less-than-hostile fashion. After the coffee machine…

Grimmjow doesn’t want to think about that. He can see Ulquiorra’s gaze already wandering back to this computer monitor and decides to suck it up today. “I won’t bother you anymore if you’re busy, I’ll just go finish eating in the kitchen. If you need a stress pet, you know where I am.”

“Thank you, Grimmjow.” The gratitude in Ulquiorra’s voice makes him feel particularly awful for trying to spend time with him at all today. “Keep an eye on Gin for me, too, if you will.”

Nodding, Grimmjow retrieves his bag and his cup, shoving the rest of his cinnamon roll into his mouth so he can’t answer properly. His hands are full but he can navigate the door just fine like that, dropping down at the kitchen table with his prize and a sinking feeling in his stomach where Ulquiorra is concerned. Of course, he just needs to get himself under control and stop letting such small things bother him and upset him. Ulquiorra is not mad at him, nor does Ulquiorra want to avoid spending time with him. He’s just been busy today, and that happens. Running a shelter is not a stress-free job by any stretch of the imagination.

Kira shuffles into the kitchen a few minutes later, his face drawn as he approaches the refrigerator, which means Gin is in another bad mood. “Good morning, Grimmjow.”

“Tell fox-face to come in here.” Grimmjow almost burns his tongue on his coffee.

“Oh?” Kira hesitates, then shuffles back into the living room. When he returns, Gin is behind him, a pinched expression on his face. “Here you are. I’m going to get juice now.”

While Gin has been upset, Kira has had trouble sleeping and Grimmjow thinks he could strangle Gin for causing such a reaction in him. When Gin is here spending time with him, Kira is usually all smiles and as close to happy as he can be, but Grimmjow has seen him on days when Gin is not here and he knows the loneliness is crushing when Gin leaves, the two of them so attached that Kira has trouble functioning when Gin isn’t around. It’s not healthy, but it is what it is.

“Breakfast?” Grimmjow holds up the bag, looking between the two of them. “I have more.”

Gin makes a noise at him but sits at the table, and Kira returns with juice for the both of them, the dark circles under his eyes all the more evident up close. “I can’t believe he’s still spoiling you after you punched the coffee machine. Moreover, I can’t believe Sosuke fell for that lie.”

That stings, but Grimmjow doesn’t let it show, pushing the bag toward Gin as he finishes his own pastry. “We talked about it after, you know. Ulquiorra knows he doesn’t have to be scared of me. I just… Got upset and lashed out at an object. It’s not like a regular thing.”

“Still, I wouldn’t have let you get away with that. Sosuke would have a heart attack if he knew you’d done something like that and Ulquiorra didn’t put it in your file.” Gin retrieves a cinnamon roll and gives the last one to Kira, picking pieces off of it to tuck between his lips, smearing icing across his slender fingers in the process. He’s too thin, Grimmjow has noticed. “If you got adopted and did something like that, they’d wonder why it wasn’t on file—”

This again. “I’m not going to get adopted, Gin. I know the rules here. If someone wants me, I have to agree to it, and I’m not gonna do that shit. I’ve been through enough in my life.”

“Would you just stay here until…” Kira trails off, chokes down juice as his face turns pink.

“Until I die? I don’t see why not. Better to have a good life here than maybe get the shit slapped out of me somewhere else.” Or worse. He could always end up in a situation where someone tries to take advantage of him again. “A real home just ain’t for me. This is good enough for me.”

Gin  _ tsks _ and wags a finger at him. “You don’t know what you’re saying, kitty cat. I kept telling myself you were probably just playing all of this off because you know you’re too big and angular for most humans, but you’ve said this so much I think you’re sincere. You think this is the best place you can be? Sosuke saved my life in more ways than one.”

“Not gonna dispute that. Just saying it’s not for everyone.” This is not what Grimmjow had in mind when he decided to share his food with Gin. He  _ wanted _ to cheer him up, not listen to this.

Maybe in the very beginning, part of it had been about the fact that Grimmjow tended to attract only the worst humans to himself, humans who marveled over his strength and size and then tried to brutalize him to prove he was nothing but a filthy useless animal after all. Certainly, his former owners put a sour taste in his mouth when it came to being an owned hybrid, but he can see how happy Gin is. Rangiku had  _ run _ to Hinamori, and there was no denying the softness between Ukitake and Kyoraku. Some hybrids are genuinely meant to find human companions.

Grimmjow is not one of them. And leaving the shelter would mean leaving Ulquiorra for good, and even if the man is only humoring him more than anything else, it’s one of the only positive relationships Grimmjow has ever had with a human. He’s not eager to lose it.

He can at least admit this to himself now. He’s making  _ some _ progress. Putting your hand through a coffee machine in a jealous fit will do wonders.

“It’s okay to not want to get adopted, I think. It’s not what every hybrid wants out of life, after all. Some of us… Just want to be happy, any way we can.” Kira’s voice is soft as he picks at his own food like he’s disinterested in the very concept of eating right now, and Grimmjow wonders if Rangiku’s absence had hit him just as hard as it had Gin.

Predictably, Gin just sighs and shakes his head. “Izuru, you can’t let his point of view infect you like this. You’re  _ going _ to find someone like I found Sosuke, like Ran-chan found Momo.”

“But what if I don’t? I think that’s okay, too. Grimmjow’s right. Living here is nice. Maybe it’s not as nice as it could be, you know, not having someone to love us but that’s okay.” Kira tips Grimmjow a frail smile and Grimmjow’s ears twitch at the sight. “It’s okay to just live for you.”

“The only reason that Grimmjow won’t let another human adopt him at this point is that he’s holding out hope that Ulquiorra is going to be the one who does it,” Gin argues quickly.

The words have Grimmjow jerking upright in his seat, tail lashing at the air behind him as he narrows his eyes at Gin. “I’ve had just about enough of you dragging his name into shit. I never said I wanted that. I  _ like _ him, sure, Quiorra’s nice to me, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“You throwing a jealous tantrum over him spending time with Orihime means nothing, hmm?” Gin points a sharp finger in Grimmjow’s direction, and Grimmjow can see the slightest sliver of pale blue eyes; Gin is  _ enjoying _ this. “You punching the coffee pot was just for fun? You want him and no one else, but he’s not going to do it. Ulquiorra doesn’t want a hybrid. He’s said it. So you can just stay here and stay  _ lonely _ if that’s what you want, but don’t you have my Izuru thinking it’s normal to want to be a grouchy lonely little cat who hides in his room all morning.”

Gin’s words have Grimmjow’s jaw tightening and he thinks, for just a moment, that punching Gin might be more satisfying than it has any right to be. But he remembers Ulquiorra’s words, and in the back of his mind, he knows Gin is just hurting and that lashing out is just a distraction from his own pain. So he finishes his coffee, sets the cup in the sink, and stretches his arms over his head to loosen the tensed muscles in his arms. Punching Gin would get him in trouble.

“Enjoy your breakfast.” His voice is faux cheery, waving at Gin over his shoulder as he heads for the backdoor. “I’m going to go get a breath of fresh air this afternoon.”

He doesn’t want to admit how much Gin’s words have hurt him, and he knows Gin is not the type to apologize, so he just puts distance between the two of them and hopes the dull, hollow ache in the pit of his stomach eases up before he sees Ulquiorra again.

Maybe he does want Ulquiorra even though he can’t have him.

Orihime has set a blanket out beneath the tree where the bird’s nest is and Grimmjow debates for a moment before walking up to her, making his footsteps loud so he doesn’t startle her. When she looks up at him from the book splayed across her lap— one of several she has about birds— her pale grey eyes light up and she eagerly waves for him to come join her. After his royal fucking fit about Ulquiorra spending time with her, Grimmjow made it a point to spend his own time with her as an apology and just to better understand her as a person.

She was the exact kind of cat hybrid that everyone foamed at the mouths over, petite and beautiful and sweet-faced, and her personality was so bright and bubbly and optimistic that he wondered how in the hell she could remain such a person after going through what she had. He doesn’t know the finer details, but he doesn’t have to. You don’t have a happy, carefree life and still end up at a place like this, but here she is, always all smiles.

“It’s getting cold out, you know.” He shrugs out of his sweatshirt and tosses it to her as he sits next to her, unsurprised to see goosebumps visible on her skin. “You’ll get sick like this."

She sighs at him but pulls the sweatshirt over her head, the size of it dwarfing her frame. “I know, but I wasn’t thinking when I came out and then I got comfortable. Ulquiorra is busy today or I’d ask him to borrow the ladder so I could take pictures of the eggs.”

“Pictures?” Grimmjow’s eyes fall on the bag at her hip, eyebrows darting up. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had a camera on you. Was it already yours, or was it a present?”

“Aizen-san got it for me for my birthday last year so I could take pictures of the birds that live around here.” Orihime carefully removes the camera from its bag and Grimmjow whistles; it must have cost quite a bit, but everyone here loves Orihime so it hardly surprises him Aizen was willing to go so far. “I really wanted to get pictures before they hatched, and after.”

Grimmjow glances at the tree behind him, then pushes himself to his feet. “C’mere. I can hold you up there so you can get your pictures. I’m strong, I’m not gonna drop you.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” Orihime drags her teeth over her lower lip, fidgeting with the loose threads on the cuffs of Grimmjow’s sleeves.

“I’m sure. C’mere, Hime.” Grimmjow offers her his hands, helping her to her feet.

The easiest position is the one he goes for, picking her up around the waist and setting her on his shoulder, easily keeping her braced without any concern about dropping her. He still gets a kick out of it when she squeals a little, unused to the sudden height and keeping a death grip on her camera to avoid dropping it. But when he turns her toward the tree, she smiles so brightly it lights her whole face up from within, raising the camera to take her pictures.

When Grimmjow hit puberty and his body started to gain height and width, his owner took advantage of it and put him through strict training regimes so that his bulking up came fast and hung around for a while. It was just to turn him into a fighter, and he thinks he made that bastard richer for the effort, but he likes having the strength when he needs it, and it lets him do things like this, so it’s not all bad. Certainly, it could be a lot worse.

Just as carefully as he held her up, Grimmjow sets her back on her feet once she’s satisfied, giving her hair a gentle ruffle. “There you go. You got your pictures now.”

“Thank you, Grimmjow!” Without warning, Orihime throws her arms around him, hugging him so tight it, surprisingly, knocks some of the air out of him. “I’m going to take lots of pictures as they’re growing up. I’m still thinking up names for them like you told me to.”

God, he’d snarked that at her. “I wanted to talk to you about that day, actually.” Might as well rip it off like a bandage so he can get it over with.

Orihime sits back down, patting the spot next to her as she returns her camera to her bag. “The day I showed you and Ulquiorra the eggs for the first time? What about it?”

“I was a fucking dick to you.” The blunt language has her squeaking in shock, her face pinking and Grimmjow shakes his head, feeling a strange fondness in his chest. He thinks she just draws that out of people naturally. “I got weirdly jealous about Ulquiorra and it wasn’t fair to you because you two have been close before I ever got here. I’m sorry about that.”

“You don’t have to be! I understand. It can be hard, you get attached sometimes.” Orihime pats him on the hand and Grimmjow can’t believe her. He just can’t. “When I first came here, Ulquiorra was distant, but kind, and I thought I was in love with him. Isn’t that silly? But he’s a very good person to all of us, so I understand. It’s very easy to like kind people.”

_ That’s probably why everyone likes you so much, princess. _ “Yeah, well, that doesn’t excuse my actions. I really am sorry about that. It was stupid of me, and I’m not going to do that again.”

“Okay. You’re forgiven because I think you sincerely mean it.” Orihime scoots closer to him, stretching her book across both of their thighs and pointing to where she’d left off. “So, this bird here? Is rare, but I could have sworn I saw it this morning, and—”

It’s easy to fall in with the gentle lull of her voice and Grimmjow lets her take his mind off of everything for a while, unable to really stop himself from looking at her, watching her hands fly through the air like the birds she loves so much when she gets animated about what she’s saying. She probably doesn’t even realize it, the way her face lights up and the delicate motions of her fingers. Whoever adopts her is going to have their hands full for sure, but only in the best way and Grimmjow hates to admit it, he  _ hates _ to admit it, but… She and Ulquiorra would suit each other. She’d be great for pulling him out of his shell.

Would she have handled this morning differently? Found a way to calm Ulquiorra down?

Gin’s words really are getting to him. He has to stop thinking about these things so much. He has no intentions of leaving the shelter and even if Ulquiorra does adopt a hybrid, that doesn’t mean Grimmjow won’t see him every day. If it was someone like Orihime, she wouldn’t even mind him keeping Ulquiorra company because she knows him now.

He needs to stop caring so much. It’s going to make things harder when Ulquiorra finally does it because, for all of his talk about  _ not, _ Grimmjow thinks he knows him better than that. It just might take more time for him to crack, but there’s always something in his eyes when the clients come to pick up their hybrids, some distant longing like he  _ wants _ that. Even if he thinks he’s not suited for the long term care of a hybrid, he still wants the opportunity.

And Grimmjow would be the absolute worst hybrid to try to take care of.

When Orihime resolves to go inside, the air finally too cold for her, Grimmjow helps her fold up her blanket and carries her books in for her so that she can just focus on the camera. Out of curiosity he checks the office for Ulquiorra and the man is nowhere to be found, but the paperwork on his desk looks oddly familiar. It looks like what he’d been poring over when Grimmjow had come to see him earlier this afternoon.

He shouldn’t look, probably. He does anyway, and his stomach sinks when he realizes what he’s staring at, the words in plain black and white before his eyes.

Hybrid adoption forms with Ulquiorra’s personal information carefully written in. There’s no hybrid’s name yet, but there doesn’t have to be for Grimmjow to understand.

_ Looks like I’m going to be sharing you right away, huh, Quiorra? _


	7. Chapter 7

Ulquiorra feels like a child sitting in the principal’s office, hands bunched up in the loose denim on top of his knees and his eyes fixed on the floor while Aizen shuffles through the paperwork in front of him. When it comes to adoption forms, Ulquiorra processes most of them himself after going through the information and inputting it into the system, but there are rules in place that he has to follow even though he would have been down by now. He tries to tell himself that is why he is so anxious, that Aizen is simply taking longer to do this task than he would have, but he knows the truth and he knows how far the truth is away from that ridiculous thought.

He clears his throat and reaches for his bottle of water on the coffee table, downing half of it without stopping. There are rules, he reminds himself, and he has to follow them no matter how inconvenient they are or how difficult the situation may be.

After all, he can hardly approve his own adoption forms.

“I’m surprised, Ulquiorra. Just because I’ve been pressuring you into doing this doesn’t mean I ever thought you’d go through with it.” Aizen turns to look at him and Ulquiorra stares down at his own fingers, at the dark nail polish he let Yoruichi paint onto them a few days ago. “Are you sure about this? It’s a big responsibility. You can’t exactly just change your mind.”

“If I wait until you come back from your weekend trip, I’ll back out like a coward and will not raise the issue again. I cannot let myself do that.” Ulquiorra’s voice wavers, but his resolve was firm the moment he got up out of bed and came here to do the deed.

Aizen is quiet and Ulquiorra finally looks up at him, wondering what expression might be crossing his own face at this moment. “Gin has… Implied some things, is all I’m saying.”

“What has he implied?”  _ Gin, what have you done behind my back? _

“I was willing to believe you when you told me the coffee pot fell over, but Gin said he heard the two of you arguing, and that Grimmjow himself was the one who struck it. You pushed it onto the floor to cover it up for him.” Aizen sets the forms on the coffee table and fixes Ulquiorra with a gaze that makes him freeze, his skin prickling at how intense Aizen’s eyes can be when he truly wants them to be. Today must be one of those days. “Is that true? Did he do that?”

Lying would be easy, but Ulquiorra is not a liar. Covering for Grimmjow is not the same, and now that Aizen knows he no longer has the will to lie for him. “That is true. He did. But he never once thought of striking me. It was my fault. My behavior and my words upset him, and I didn’t take into account how he felt. I’ve learned better since then. Our relationship has been perfect.”

“I’m not going to say that’s untrue because I’ve not seen you so affectionate with another hybrid before and he’s been playing a lot nicer lately. Kira told me he shared breakfast with him and Gin yesterday morning.” Aizen says it so casually, but Ulquiorra’s eyes widen at the thought, his mouth falling open just a little before he presses his lips back together and nods.

When Grimmjow had come into the office yesterday morning, he had nearly seen the adoption forms Ulquiorra had been filling out since he came in. The weight of the choice has been resting on his shoulders ever since he came home after his late night, after letting Grimmjow fall asleep on him and just marveling over how the same prickly cat he’d let in off of the street has really bloomed under his attention and care. Then, Ulquiorra told Grimmjow he thought that caring for a hybrid was something he was not suited to do, but…

But he’s  _ been _ doing it, and perhaps living with Grimmjow will be more difficult, but Ulquiorra wants to take on the challenge for himself, and for the sake of the beautiful cat who has let Ulquiorra into his life after swearing he trusted no humans. He wants to give Grimmjow a proper home and a reason to never fear someone else will come along and steal his affection.

“He isn’t violent,” he presses, not sure why he feels the need to speak at all right now, the desperation high and clear in his voice. “He was just jealous. I think this entire experience has been so hard for him. He obviously went through so much before coming here, and he just… I think it frightened him to think of losing the one human he’d started to bond with.”

Aizen’s expression softens and he rests his jaw against his hand, regarding Ulquiorra through now-unreadable eyes. “Are you doing this for you, or are you doing this for him?”

“I’m doing this for both of us, like I should. I have been at this job long enough to know the difference between selfishness and selflessness. This is an equal balance of the two.” Ulquiorra struggles to explain when normally, words come so easily and quickly to him. This entire situation has muddled his thinking and made it difficult for him to sit down with his thoughts like he wants to, but it’s not bad. “I care about him. I want to take care of him. It gives me pleasure to make him smile, or when he purrs for me. I don’t want someone to come in and take him away.”

His voice breaks on the last few words and Ulquiorra shoves his fist into his mouth, willing the slight panic fluttering somewhere beneath his ribs to die down. Truth be told, the fear someone might come in and adopt Grimmjow out from under him had been rampant ever since Rangiku had been adopted, mounting steadily until he knew he had to do something about it. Putting it off might mean losing Grimmjow forever, and he isn’t ready to go through that.

“Calm down, Ulquiorra. Take deep breaths for me.” Aizen rests a hand on his shoulder and Ulquiorra leans into the touch, thinking that Aizen has always felt particularly fatherly to him, and now is no different. “You put in your forms. No one can come in under you.”

He knows that, intellectually. Considering this has been his job, Ulquiorra knows the ins and outs and the way it works better than anyone else, that until he and Grimmjow have come to their joint decision, no one else’s desire for him matters. But it still scares him to think about, that he might send Grimmjow off and never see him again. Never see that incorrigible smile, never have Grimmjow pestering him for attention when he ought to be working.

_ What am I going to do if he doesn’t look up at me with those eyes of his every time I tell him I’m proud of him? _ “I just don’t want to lose this chance. Every day I wait is a risk now.”

“Rangiku being adopted really did a number on everyone, huh?” Aizen huffs laughter before yanking Ulquiorra forward, wrapping his arms around him and it’s  _ very  _ unprofessional but Ulquiorra lets his head fall against Aizen’s shoulder. “You’re not going to lose the chance. You’re not going to lose him. Take deep breaths and calm down so we can talk.”

Though Ulquiorra wants to insist he is perfectly fine, he knows better and closes his eyes, focusing on his breathing and getting it under control. When he has himself suitably calm, he leans back out of Aizen’s embrace, fingers carefully brushing his slightly ruffled hair back into place before he folds his hands in his lap. “My apologies. It has been a rough few days.”

“For all of us.” Aizen picks up the paperwork and Ulquiorra’s heart starts to beat staccato against his ribs all over again. Much harder and it might burst from his chest. “What can I honestly say? Of course you pass. I don’t even need time to consider it. I see how you work here every day. I’ve been to your apartment, it has more than enough room for two.”

Ulquiorra rubs the back of his neck, his lips pressed together before he sighs. “Aizen-san, you can’t show such  _ favoritism _ just because it’s me. I have to talk to Grimmjow first—”

“Talk to me about what?” The door behind them swings open and Ulquiorra’s heart slams into his throat so hard he almost chokes himself. “Sorry, I came to get coffee and I heard my name. I heard something about favoritism and then my name.”

Hybrid hearing, of course. “Good morning, Grimmjow. Did you sleep well last night?”

“Well as can be expected, you know.” Grimmjow pours himself a cup of coffee like he does every morning, his eyes drifting between the two of them before his gaze lands on the paperwork in Aizen’s hands. “What’s going on? Something up?”

Aizen smiles kindly at him and sets the paperwork down on the table, pushing himself up from his seat. “I’m going to go check on Gin. Ulquiorra needs to talk to you in private.”

The last time they had a conversation privately in the office, Grimmjow had punched the coffee machine. This is not lost on Ulquiorra; he sees the panicky shift of Grimmjow’s eyes between him and the door before he calms down and takes Aizen’s place on the couch, setting his coffee cup down on top of it untouched. His eyes flicker over the papers once before he meets Ulquiorra’s eyes and something in Ulquiorra says that Grimmjow has seen them before, that he recognizes them. He must have caught a glimpse yesterday morning.

“So…” Grimmjow says slowly. “I guess I’m gonna be sharing you after all, huh?”

The question has Ulquiorra confused, his mouth falling open a little at the question. “What?"

“I know you said you didn’t want a hybrid, but I saw the paperwork yesterday and figured you must’ve changed your mind. I don’t mind, or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Grimmjow looks away from him, then, a slight pink flush crawling up his cheeks as he pulls one knee up to his broad chest, folding his arms around it.

Dully, Ulquiorra notes that his ears are drooping, his tail lying flat on the couch behind him.

Grimmjow thinks he’s adopting another hybrid from their shelter.

Ulquiorra breathes a sigh of relief and leans back against the arm of the couch. “No, Grimmjow. You aren’t going to be sharing me any more than you usually do.”

“I guess that’s fair because it’s not like you’re giving up your job here or anything. You wouldn’t do that.” Grimmjow shrugs and he looks like he’s trying so hard to play it off, but Ulquiorra can see that he’s hurt, can read it in the set of his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders. “You didn’t have a name on the paperwork yesterday. Who is it? Orihime? You two get along pretty well.”

When he says her name, Ulquiorra expects poison in his voice, venom on his tongue, the same anger that had been present when Orihime touched him the first time. But he says her name with only a note of knowing, like he suspected this might occur and the pieces are simply falling into place for him. It breaks Ulquiorra’s heart, because he hasn’t even considered himself an option even though Ulquiorra has spent so much time with him since he’s come here.

_ My poor, sweet kitten, _ he thinks, shifting forward on the couch, tilting Grimmjow’s chin so that those blue eyes meet his, finally.  _ What the fuck did they do to you to make you feel this way about yourself? And how can I help you get out of it? _

“No,” he says, and Grimmjow swallows. “Orihime isn’t the hybrid I’m adopting.”

“Kira, then,” Grimmjow says, and Ulquiorra sighs at him. “I get it, he’s cute as hell and it’d probably soothe Gin somewhat if his last friend wasn’t spirited off somewhere.”

Ulquiorra shakes his head. “No, Grimmjow. The hybrid I want to adopt is  _ you. _ ”

Silence hangs heavy in the air between them, Grimmjow’s eyes widening as the words slowly process before he rapidly blinks. It’s not enough to stop the shimmer of tears and Ulquiorra’s heart twists violently in his chest at the sight, and all he wants to do is reach out and take Grimmjow in his arms, soothe those tears away because the last thing he wants is this beautiful cat to be miserable when he should be able to smile. He should be  _ happy, _ not sad, and he should have happiness for the rest of his life. It’s what Ulquiorra wants to give him.

“You… I… Me?” Grimmjow stares at him, his eyes boring into him, intense despite the tears threatening to spill over at any moment. “The hybrid you wanna adopt is me?”

“Yes.” Ulquiorra catches the first tear when it falls, brushing it away with his thumb, gasping softly when Grimmjow twists his head, pressing his face into Ulquiorra’s palm. “There… There isn’t anyone else, not for me. You’re the one that makes me happy. I look forward to seeing you and I love spending time with you. I’ve never been so close to another hybrid before.”

Grimmjow hiccups against his palm and Ulquiorra brushes his thumb over Grimmjow’s nose, damp with his tears. “You have no idea what fucking mess you’d be walking into.”

“You’re wrong, Grimm.” Ulquiorra leans in close, presses his forehead against Grimmjow’s temple, feeling every little jolt and shudder his body goes through with the force of his soft sobs. “I know it’s been hard for you. I understand. I don’t know the finer details, and if you never want to tell me, you don’t have to. I just want you to be happy. And if I can be the one who gives you that happiness, then that’s what I want. I just… I don’t want to lose you to anyone else.”

“What?” Grimmjow looks at him, so hurt, so lost, and Ulquiorra wants to cry himself.

He holds Grimmjow’s face in his hands like something precious and fragile, all of those hard angles that make him so handsome, such a contrast to his soft lips, his long lashes, his baby blue eyes. “I don’t want someone else to come in and adopt you and take you away from me. I love seeing you every day. I love making you happy and spoiling you and listening to the way you purr for me when I pet you. I even love the way you bother me for attention every time you see me. And I don’t want to lose any of that. I don’t want to lose you.”

The words he’s been holding back spill out of him and Grimmjow stares at him with steadily widening eyes until Ulquiorra stops speaking. And then he sobs all the harder, his shoulders wracked with the sound of his pain and Ulquiorra, panicked, wraps his arms around Grimmjow and pulls him as close as he can, runs his hands over the strong planes of his back and hums softly in his ear. He’s never seen Grimmjow this upset in the entire time he’s known him.

And he feels like complete trash for being the one to make him cry like this.

“Please don’t cry. I’m sorry, Grimmjow.” He feels lost now, not used to seeing Grimmjow break down like this, not sure how to handle it. Feelings are not particularly easy for him and part of him had become disconnected enough to take care of the hybrids here without dying for their heartbreak every day, a necessary change to make. “I’m so sorry for making you cry—”

Grimmjow huffs against his throat. “You’re so fucking stupid, Quiorra. They’re not  _ sad _ tears, I just… Do you have any fucking idea what I’ve been going through since yesterday? I thought you were gonna pick one of the others. I never thought you’d pick me.”

“How could I ever pick someone else?” Ulquiorra runs his fingers through Grimmjow’s hair, strokes one folded-back ear as gently as he can in this position.

“Because I’m a wreck. Because I’m mean to you sometimes, ‘cause I got scary and violent in front of you. I’m obnoxious and jealous and probably too selfish, too.” Grimmjow sniffles and Ulquiorra’s entire chest aches for him. “My past is bad. I might be too fucked to function now.”

The thought makes Ulquiorra ridiculously angry, the fact Grimmjow thinks he’s too broken to have a normal life. “If you need counseling, I will find the best therapist suited to handle your unique needs. If you have nightmares, I’ll get up in the middle of the night to take care of you. I just wish you wouldn’t break glass because you injured your poor hand.”

Grimmjow laughs and Ulquiorra squeezes him tighter, his own eyes slamming shut to dam the tears that sting in them, that want so badly to fall. “You really want me, of all people?”

“No one but you. Just you.” Ulquiorra glances behind him before lying back, letting Grimmjow lie on top of him, smiling when Grimmjow presses his nose into Ulquiorra’s throat purposefully. “My handsome kitty cat who would knock over everything just to get my attention.”

“I’m not an  _ actual _ cat,” Grimmjow reminds him, but there’s a note of humor in his voice.

“True. You’re my beautiful hybrid who is so much stronger than he gives himself credit for. It really hurts to know you’d never have thought you were the one I’d pick.” The notion is just… Ulquiorra can hardly wrap his mind around it, because Grimmjow has  _ clung _ to him.

Grimmjow is quiet on top of him before he finally responds, fingers curling in the collar of Ulquiorra’s t-shirt. He’s done it before, and Ulquiorra wonders if it serves as some sort of comfort for him. “You’ve known all the others longer than you’ve known me. I just… I’m not used to good things, I dunno. The others have a betting pool for you adopting Orihime.”

“Do they, now?” Ulquiorra presses his lips together and resolves to shut that down before anyone gets hurt. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s lovely, but the one I want is you. I want to have you as my companion for as long as possible. Unless you want to leave, then forever.”

Another hiccup and Ulquiorra squeezes him for lack of anything better to do. “I didn’t think this was where we’d end up when you let me in that morning. I really didn’t.”

“Well, it’s where we are now.” Ulquiorra tips his chin up and kisses his forehead, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from his skin. “But you have to approve. I can’t force you to make this decision. I can understand if you decide that you don’t want to be with me—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Grimmjow sits up, half-straddling his waist. “Of course I want you, Quiorra.”

The door opens with them in such a compromising position and Aizen just stands there for so long that Ulquiorra feels his skin itch with discomfort. “I, ah… Things look like they’re well?”

“Grimmjow approved of the adoption,” Ulquiorra finally says, patting Grimmjow’s hip gently.

Smarter than most would give him credit for, Grimmjow climbs down off of him and retrieves his cup of coffee from the table, gulping it down without meeting Aizen’s eyes.  _ Oh, you’re shy? _

“I’m glad to hear that. I truly am. Because of the fact that I already approved you, then all we have to do is sign and… And he’s yours.” Aizen sits down on the coffee table, pats Grimmjow on the knee to get his attention. “Is that fine, Grimmjow? Most of the other hybrids have a grace period to make the decision, but if you don’t want one, then I can finalize—”

“I don’t want it,” Grimmjow says immediately. “I wanna go home with him today.”

Ulquiorra’s heart rams into his ribs so hard he’s momentarily lightheaded, sitting up slowly as dawning wonder seems to engulf him all at once. It must show on his face because Aizen stares at him for a long moment before breaking out into the most beatific smile Ulquiorra has ever seen on his face, flipping through the paperwork and offering them both a pen, indicating where they need to sign off with enough competence that Ulquiorra’s eyes narrow slightly.

“Are you sure?” he asks Grimmjow when it’s his turn to sign the paperwork. “Truly sure?”

Grimmjow looks at him like he’s said something especially stupid. “Of course I’m sure.” And he signs with a ridiculous flourish that makes Ulquiorra’s eyes sting just a little.

He still has to help Aizen input the information correctly into the system because of course he does, but he clicks Submit and the printer rolls out the official documentation that makes Grimmjow his hybrid in every capacity of the word. Aizen offers him the documents still warm from the printer and Ulquiorra holds them reverently in his hand before sliding them into Grimmjow’s folder, hugging it to his chest. Ridiculously glad he made this choice.

And then he sets the folder down on his desk and moves back to the couch where Grimmjow is waiting for him. As soon as he sits down, Grimmjow pounces with an excited mewl.

He’s all over Ulquiorra in seconds, rubbing his cheeks against Ulquiorra’s and across his shoulders and hair, and Ulquiorra can’t even find it in himself to be annoyed, wrapping his arms around Grimmjow’s waist and pressing his face against the cat’s chest, cheek flattened over where his heart is beating so rapidly against his ribs. He’d promised Grimmjow when they met that he would find him a home and now he gets to make that come true for him like he said.

Ulquiorra wouldn’t have predicted it turning out like this. But he doesn’t care. He’s  _ happy. _

“That’s precious,” Aizen murmurs, and Ulquiorra has to agree, his hands pressing into Grimmjow’s waist as he holds him steady on top of his lap.

“You’re mine so I’m allowed to broadcast it now.” Grimmjow leans back to look at him, his tears forgotten, his eyes sparkling so beautifully it rips the oxygen right from Ulquiorra’s lungs and leaves him gasping for breath. “Are you going to tell the others? Do they know yet?”

Ulquiorra shakes his head, pulling Grimmjow against his chest. “I’m not ready to let go of you just yet. You can go tell them all in a moment, I promise.”

Grimmjow meows and clings to him, and then the purring starts up, a deep rumble that vibrates against Ulquiorra’s chest and fulfills something in him that he hadn’t realized was lacking. He’s seen so many humans walk out of this office with hybrids in tow, has seen them smile and laugh and cry from joy, but he’s never fully understood because he’s never had it happen himself. But now he does, his heart feeling like it’s going to expand through his entire chest and crush his lungs in the process every time Grimmjow mewls for him.

His kitten. His Grimmjow, who’s made progress even though he insisted otherwise.

“You’ll get to go home with me today.” Ulquiorra rubs up and down his back, and he feels at peace like this, Grimmjow warm and heavy in his arms,  _ his. _ No one else’s, just his. “I cleaned up the apartment for you. You’ll have your own bed and all the pastries you can eat.”

“I’m glad. I’m so fucking glad that if I had to be wrong, it was you.” Grimmjow pushes their foreheads together and Ulquiorra closes his eyes. “That if there was ever gonna be a human who made me a sappy mess, it was you.”

Ulquiorra smiles faintly. “If there was ever a hybrid to make me second guess never adopting, then I’m happy that you were the one who came into my life.”

He never would have guessed when he found Grimmjow asleep on the doorstep that they were just what the other was missing in his life, but he wouldn’t change a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't updated so fast in my life before i think, but i've been desperate to get to this scene and this chapter for so long that i couldn't help myself. ulquiorra has finally adopted grimmjow and i'm so happy for them both! how about the rest of you? this is only the start to their lives together.


	8. Chapter 8

The last time Grimmjow was in somebody’s car, it was on the lengthy trip to his final home before coming to the shelter. Looking back, the ride was nothing special but it holds a dark place in his heart for being the journey that led him to the worst home he had ever managed to survive, far worse than any of the others before it. The car had been quiet, the driver refusing to so much as glance in his direction, and his wrists and ankles had been bound to discourage him from trying to move too much. He had even been sedated just in case.

Ulquiorra’s car smells clean and floral; Grimmjow spots a scent stick clipped to the air vent and presumes the scent must be coming from there. The radio does not immediately start playing but Ulquiorra pulls out his cell phone and makes a few adjustments on it until something soft and soothing pours from the speakers, permeating the interior of the vehicle with a soothing and tranquil tune that Grimmjow does not recognize though he likes it immensely. It suits Ulquiorra and it makes the slight tension tightening in his gut ease somewhat, a reminder that this ride is taking him to the home he’s going to be sharing with Ulquiorra for hopefully the rest of his life.

The rest of the day had passed by achingly slowly and Grimmjow kept waiting for the moment he would wake up and discover everything was merely a dream, a figment of his imagination and nothing more. After Grimmjow calmed down and Ulquiorra allowed him to take the certification to show the rest of the shelter, everyone had arranged an impromptu goodbye party for him. Orihime even helped him pack the sparse amount of personal belongings into a bag so he could take what Ulquiorra had given him along with him.

“I’ll buy you more things now,” Ulquiorra promised from the doorway, ignoring the look Grimmjow sent him for saying such a thing. “You’ll need more clothing, of course, and whatever else you want. I don’t spend much money on myself, so I have plenty saved.”

Grimmjow stuck his tongue out at him for it. “Not necessary. I’ve got all I need right here.”

He doesn’t mean the bag of clothing he has, and he thinks Ulquiorra knows that.

Now he sits in Ulquiorra’s car, buckled into the passenger seat with his bag safely deposited into the trunk, his tail swaying softly behind him as he watches Ulquiorra shift gears to back them off of the curb and out onto the street. The sky above them is already edging steadily toward darkness, stars winking into sight on the horizon, and Grimmjow thinks it may be the most beautiful sunset sky he has ever laid eyes on. He’ll remember it his entire life.

Ulquiorra shifts one hand off of the steering wheel at a red light, resting his fingers on the back of Grimmjow’s hand for a brief moment. “I’m happy that you’re coming home with me.”

“I’m happy to come home with you.” Grimmjow lifts Ulquiorra’s hand to his cheek, scrubbing his skin against Ulquiorra’s knuckles. “Thank you, Quiorra. I would have spent the rest of my life probably not trusting anyone even if they meant well if you didn’t exist.”

“No need to thank me, Grimmjow. I’m happy to take you in. I promised you that you’d find a home and someone who wants to care for you.” Ulquiorra’s lips lift slightly in a smile and it makes Grimmjow’s heart race against his ribs. “I never knew it would be me when I first said that to you, but I’m glad that it is. I’ll prove it to you every day from now on.”

With any other human, the prospect of being vulnerable in front of them would have sent Grimmjow out onto the streets once more to find a dumpster to sleep behind and a restaurant trash can to rifle his meals out of. Distrustful of anyone who might be able to use their power over him, Grimmjow had forged his own life and strove to get away from the kind of people who would have a chance to try to break him once more. It was through sincere effort and gentle treatment that Ulquiorra taught him that not all humans are out to harm him, that some of them are not here to take advantage of him but rather to give him a better chance at life.

It’s why Grimmjow can purr as he presses his nose into Ulquiorra’s palm, his eyelids heavy and his muscles relaxed and soft as he stares at him over the warm cup of his hand.

The light changes, and Ulquiorra has to take his hand back so he can drive.

The houses Grimmjow has lived in all of his life are extravagant, brimming with artwork that cost more than most people can even conceptualize and furniture imported from various countries around the world often hand-carved. In contrast, Ulquiorra’s apartment is nothing, but the moment Grimmjow follows him inside it feels like  _ home, _ warm and familiar and like someone actually lives here. He doesn’t know what he expected from Ulquiorra’s apartment, but the space itself is all browns and golds and reds, radiating warmth.

It’s such a contrast to his pale skin, his dark hair, his emerald eyes.

“This is your home now.” Ulquiorra waits for Grimmjow to drop his bag before he takes both of Grimmjow’s hands in his, and his gaze is so earnest it makes Grimmjow’s breath catch in his throat. “I want you to be comfortable and happy here, so if there’s anything you want or need, I want you to tell me. All the pain and suffering that brought you here… I want us to forge a new path together, one where you don’t have to be even slightly inconvenienced.”

Grimmjow huffs laughter at his insistence and leans down, pressing his forehead against Ulquiorra’s own, their noses brushing together with the movement. “I’m happy just because you’re here with me. I meant it when I said that was what I needed.”

“You’re very sweet, but I’m insistent when I say I want you to be happy here.” Ulquiorra picks his bag up for him before Grimmjow can protest, keeping hold of one of his hands as he leads him through the living room to a small hallway. “I want to show you to your bedroom now. I have a guest room, and I’ve been airing it out since Rangiku was adopted.”

“Was that when you made your choice? That day?” Grimmjow asks, letting himself be led.

Ulquiorra nods, giving Grimmjow’s hand a gentle squeeze as they come to stop in front of a half-open bedroom doorway. “Yes. It took me some time to fill out the paperwork because I kept wondering if I was right or wrong, if it was the best decision for you. Part of me feared you’d hate me if I made the choice, that you’d stop trusting me when you found out.”

“You thought I’d see you as just another one of my old owners,” Grimmjow murmurs softly.

“Yes.” Ulquiorra stops just inside of the doorway, then turns to look up at him, his gaze intense once more as he strokes his thumb over Grimmjow’s knuckles. “And I don’t want that risk. I don’t want to lose all of the trust you’ve put in me over a single decision. And yet…”

Grimmjow leans into him, nosing his forehead gently. “Go ahead. I’m listening carefully.”

“And yet I didn’t want to risk losing you to another person. No matter how many times I told myself someone else could have taken better care of you than I could, I could never convince myself to let go enough.” Ulquiorra sighs, the hand on Grimmjow’s wrist sliding up to grip his forearm, fingers pressing into his skin. “I wanted to be the one who did it myself. And I still do.”

“Yeah, you said that. S’why I’m here, and it’s why I trust you.” Grimmjow takes a chance, shoves Ulquiorra’s back against the doorframe and rubs his cheek along Ulquiorra’s hair, all the way down to his shoulder. “It’s why you’re the only human I’d ever call my own.”

He hears Ulquiorra’s breath hitch in his throat and smiles, mewling at him as he nuzzles at his throat. It’s enough to have Ulquiorra’s hand between his ears, stroking his scalp with firm and knowing touches while Grimmjow curls his body around him, hands slipping around him to press against his back. Any hybrid who goes near him will be able to smell Grimmjow on his skin from across the other side of the shelter; they’ll know he belongs to Grimmjow, that Grimmjow has taken the time to mark him and scent him and claim ownership of him. It’s the one thing hybrids can do that humans can’t, the one real marker that nothing can wash away.

He’d sworn he’d never put so much effort into a human, that none of them could ever be worthy of it. But now he scents Ulquiorra furiously, grinning when Ulquiorra laughs softly and strokes his ears, earning another satisfied mewl from his lips. The  _ only _ human who ever could.

“I see.” Ulquiorra’s lips brush against his forehead and it sends an electric shock through Grimmjow’s entire body. “Let me show you around your room before dinner. And if you want, you can have a shower or a bath, and you’re allowed to take as long as you want in either.”

Grimmjow steps back so Ulquiorra can turn the overhead light on, the room standard for just about any bedroom he’s ever seen; bed, bookcase, desk and chair, closet, a nightstand beside the bed. There are two windows and Grimmjow can imagine honey-warm sunlight spilling into the room, soaking into his fur until he’s toasty beneath the sheets.

“This space is your own. Here.” Ulquiorra takes his hand once more, pressing a small silver key into his palm. “This will lock your door. I do not have a copy, so I cannot enter without your permission if you choose to lock it. This is my way of telling you that this space is yours, and yours alone. You control who comes in and who cannot.”

“All right. Thank you. I’ll make sure to keep careful track of this. I should probably buy a keyring at some point for it.” Grimmjow rolls the key around between his fingers thoughtfully.

“Ah.” Ulquiorra fishes something else out of his pocket and Grimmjow tilts his head, eyes widening when Ulquiorra holds up what appears to be a keychain ornament, a cartoonish blue cat hanging from a slim silver chain. “I thought of that. It’s a blue cat like you are.”

From anyone else, the gift might have been a joke but Grimmjow takes it and slides the key onto the ring, tucking it into his pocket. “Thank you. So this is really my room, huh?”

Ulquiorra smiles softly up at him. “Yes, Grimm. Your room and no one else’s.”

With that, Grimmjow leaps onto the mattress as hard as he can, laughing when the mattress bounces beneath him just a little before he sinks into it with a groan. He can tell Ulquiorra has been airing out the room, can smell it in the air but the bedspread and the sheets beneath are clean and freshly laundered, likely put on this morning before he came to the shelter. It makes his heart beat a little faster, the fact Ulquiorra so carefully planned for this even though he was afraid Grimmjow would turn him down and leave him behind for good.

Soft footsteps alert him to Ulquiorra’s presence a moment before one hand comes to rest on his back, soothing strokes along his spine starting up a soft purr in his chest. He tilts his head to see Ulquiorra hovering beside the bed before he slowly sits down and Grimmjow smiles up at him, dragging himself over to lay his head on Ulquiorra’s leg. He’s never felt so warm before.

“You should make dinner for us while I’m in the shower,” Grimmjow tells him, teeth rasping against the denim of his jeans. “That way I can relax while you do the hard work. It’s only fitting ‘cause I had such a strenuous day saying goodbye to everyone.”

Ulquiorra’s finger strokes down the bridge of his nose and Grimmjow’s purr deepens, the nerves there tickled just right by the gentle touch. “I can do that for you. I like cooking, and I want you to be as relaxed and happy as possible now that you’re home.”

_ Home. _ He says it so casually but it sends a delicious warmth through Grimmjow’s body.

Before Ulquiorra can move away from the bed, Grimmjow’s arms slip around his waist and he uses his strength to pull him down onto the bed, pinning him to the mattress and climbing on top of him. It’s easy to hold Ulquiorra down when he weighs more than him, when Ulquiorra isn’t making any move to stop him or push him away. Instead, his hands slide up Grimmjow’s back, not pushing him away but drawing him closer, as close as he wants. It’s something no other human has ever done, none of them interested in having Grimmjow close to them.

To everyone else, Grimmjow was a pet. A pretty one, to be sure, an expensive one and a challenge to tame, to break into pieces and reform into something polite and well-trained. An unusual one, a cat too broad and strong to ever be viewed as cute and cuddly, and it was rare for any human to touch him with anything less than absolute malice.

He’d seen other hybrids around some of those houses, some doted on and some beaten down like he was. The former never seemed all that better off than the latter; at least the pain was honest and true instead of a subtle manipulation tactic, a reminder that everything could always fall through like too much weight on fragile glass. Those treated with kindness were always just one mistake away from broken limbs and strained muscles and bleeding skin on the whim of masters whose wants and desires seemed to change daily. The pain was consistent, something to brace for, something to guard himself against. Guarding a heart is much more difficult.

How many times had Grimmjow seen one of his companions break down in tears because the master or mistress who spoke to them lovingly only moments ago backhanded them for a simple mistake? For something as small as touching without permission?

This is different. Ulquiorra encourages him, touches him so tenderly, forgives his mistakes and reassures him when he’s afraid. The coffee pot alone would have been a death sentence with some of his masters, earned severe punishment at least. It wouldn’t have earned tender care, an apology, a man who went out of his way to make Grimmjow smile.

“Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra’s voice is so soft and careful beneath him and Grimmjow props himself up on his forearms to look down at him, only just now aware that his purring has reached the loudest and deepest vibration he’s ever heard out of himself. “Are you all right?”

The question is so simple, but the expression in Ulquiorra’s viridian eyes— tenderness, concern, happiness— all mixed together makes Grimmjow’s eyes sting. “I’m just grateful it was you.”

He could tell Ulquiorra everything, lay his cards on the table and show him the painful past that had led him to his current place in the world, but he chooses those words instead. And when Ulquiorra’s eyes widen for just a moment before he smiles, pulling Grimmjow back down against him, it tells Grimmjow everything he needs to know.

Ulquiorra understands him.

They lie there until UIquiorra gently pats him on the back, coaxing him up once more. “Let me show you to the bathroom so you can shower, and I’ll make you dinner. We can do whatever you want before bed, but I do have work in the morning. Are you going to come with me?”

“Probably. I don’t really wanna be away from you now.” It’s bold to say out loud but Ulquiorra only smiles sweetly up at him, runs the pad of his finger along Grimmjow’s nose. “What are you gonna make for us? I’ve never had your cooking before, Quiorra.”

“Teriyaki salmon. I might have chosen it in the hopes I would be bringing you home this evening.” Ulquiorra has the good grace to flush and Grimmjow barks laughter down at him before he leans down, rubbing the top of his head against Ulquiorra’s shoulder. “Sweet kitten. Now get off of me so I can get you in the shower and feed you.”

Grimmjow finally drags himself off of Ulquiorra though he really just wants to lie on top of him until he falls asleep, hungry or not. The bathroom is right across the hall from his bedroom, a modern space with a two-in-one shower and tub combo but large enough that Grimmjow could probably lounge in it comfortably with no problem. While the space seemed modest upon first glance, there are interesting finds in the apartment just the same.

“Spend as much time as you want under the water.” Ulquiorra swings the shower curtain open, gesturing to the various bottles on the three shelves installed into the corner of the stall. “Shampoo, conditioner, body wash. Various things. Use what smells nice to you. There are towels under the sink. I’ll see you when you’re done bathing, and I hope you enjoy yourself.”

“I’m sure I will.” Grimmjow licks a wet stripe across his cheek before pulling his t-shirt over his head. “You might want to give me some privacy. I’m not all that modest.”

He thinks Ulquiorra looks dazed, fingers brushing over where Grimmjow’s tongue had rasped across his skin before he gives himself a shake and turns toward the door. “Right. Enjoy.”

Everyone at the shelter is going to smell him on Ulquiorra’s skin. They aren’t even going to be able to smell  _ Ulquiorra _ anymore, which is fine as far as Grimmjow is concerned. If Ulquiorra is his human now, then he should get to scent him as much as he wants.

He plays with the water settings until he has a good grasp of them, then shucks the rest of his clothing and climbs into the shower, the hot spray perfect on his skin. Under the shower spray and away from Ulquiorra’s eyes, Grimmjow takes stock of the scars on his body, most of them inflicted by the other humans in his life, the ones who sought to use him and bend him and when they discovered there was no give in his body, to break him. The largest of them is a scar that runs down the center of his chest as if the skin had just been ripped away.

What will Ulquiorra say when he sees them? The worst of them are kept covered by Grimmjow’s clothing, an effective barrier against prying eyes that have no right to read the pain he’s suffered as it’s etched on his skin. But Ulquiorra is different, and Grimmjow wants to let him in as much as he can stand, as much as he can tolerate. If Ulquiorra is going to be the one who gives him any semblance of a happy life… Then Grimmjow has to trust him. With everything.

Not right away. With time, yes. But they have plenty of time now.

After he’s showered and allowed the hot water to sluice over his body for what seems an endless amount of time, he dries himself off, wraps a towel around his waist, and returns to his room to dress.  _ His room. _ It’s not like back at the shelter at all, having this space to himself and the key to keep it locked if he wants to, the utter privacy of it. And Ulquiorra had given it so freely when some of his owners had him sleeping  _ outside _ during the warmer months.

He needs to stop dwelling on that, maybe. It’s over. It’s time to enjoy his new life.

The kitchen is through the living room, small but warm, the heavenly scent of spice and fish wafting into the air and making Grimmjow’s mouth water. Ulquiorra is at the stove and Grimmjow makes sure his steps can be heard before he wraps himself around Ulquiorra from behind, nuzzling against the back of his neck. It’s so hard  _ not _ to be affectionate with him right now.

Touching has always been punished, and cat hybrids are naturally affectionate and loving creatures. It feels like his nature has been restrained for so long it wants to burst out of him.

“You smell nice,” Ulquiorra tells him, and Grimmjow mewls in answer. “Not that I’m complaining, I’m rather enjoying this, but I don’t remember you being this touchy before.”

“I wasn’t allowed to be with anyone else,” Grimmjow says simply.

He feels Ulquiorra still in his arms before the human heaves a sigh, his shoulders drooping. “Every small thing I hear about your past frustrates me. Even some of the most damaged hybrids I’ve ever had the pleasure of finding homes for have wanted affection.”

“Yeah, we’re kinda a cuddly bunch when it comes right down to it.” Grimmjow gets in one last squeeze before he sits himself down at the table, intimate enough for just two people, surprised to find Ulquiorra has already been laying out food. “But like I said, it was a punishable offense.”

“I’ll never punish you for wanting touch. Even if it means turning into a body pillow when you’re in a particular mood.” Ulquiorra sighs again and Grimmjow isn’t wholly surprised to see his traditional melancholic expression return once more.

It’s just something the two of them are going to have to navigate together. “So you’ve been living here all by yourself, huh? You don’t come across as the kind of guy who would want to.”

“I was only living here for about two weeks when I landed the job at the shelter and then I was getting more than enough contact each day.” Ulquiorra brings the skillet he’s been using over to the table and Grimmjow leans back to give him plenty of room to dip out their fish. “And now, I’m not living alone anymore. It’s already proving to be a very pleasant change.”

“Glad to hear it.” Grimmjow inhales, then groans low in his throat. “That smells  _ amazing. _ ”

“Thank you. It’s been a considerable amount of time since I’ve cooked for anyone but myself, but I’ll make sure I learn the necessary skills.” Ulquiorra drifts toward the refrigerator once he sets the skillet in the sink. “What would you like to drink?”

Eating with Ulquiorra is surprisingly domestic and it only makes the day feel more like a dream than anything else. Grimmjow’s truly expecting to wake up back at the shelter at any moment, or to snap out of this elaborate daydream only to find out someone else’s name had been on the paperwork after all. But instead, the two of them continue eating together, Ulquiorra telling him a few things about the building and the general neighborhood, discussing getting Grimmjow his own cell phone and various other things he’d like to be able to set up.

It is a dream, but a real one. One Grimmjow thought he’d never grasp on his own.

After dinner, after the leftovers have been put away and the dishwasher has been loaded, Ulquiorra sits down on the couch to read, and Grimmjow stretches out along the length of it, head resting on Ulquiorra’s lap. It takes very little prodding for Ulquiorra to read to him, and the subject matter hardly registers; it’s the soft deep timber of Ulquiorra’s voice that Grimmjow craves, and it feels like a hand stroking down his spine, soothing him to his core.

When he glances up at Ulquiorra, those emerald eyes meet his, the stillness between them comfortable, wrapping around him sleek and warm, promising his safety and comfort.

Ulquiorra runs a finger down his nose once more and Grimmjow’s eyelids flutter.

It’s not a dream after all. It’s his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i'm being honest i'm not even sure where this massive amount of updating is coming from. i think it might have been the fact october kept me so busy that i was never really able to sit down and do the updates as i wanted to do them, and now they're just kind of exploding out of me at a dizzying rate i'm not even fully able to keep up with.
> 
> but i'd not think that's a problem! i can't promise it's going to stay at this rate because i'm not even sure how it's here now, but i hope everyone is having fun reading them just the same.
> 
> it was really nice to sit down and just write grimmjow unwinding and enjoying the night with ulquiorra.


	9. Chapter 9

Living with Grimmjow turns out to be far easier than it has any right to be in Ulquiorra’s opinion.

He takes Grimmjow to work with him and at the end of each day, he brings him home and basks in his warmth and presence until it’s time to go to bed. They eat together and he takes Grimmjow out to his favorite locations and stores around the city when he has days off, enjoying the way Grimmjow’s eyes light up as he drinks in everything. When the weather continues to grow chillier, October giving way to November, Ulquiorra drags him into multiple clothing shops and makes him try on sweaters and coats of all shapes and colors until they find ones that he enjoys and likes to wear. His favorite is a dark blue one with silver buttons and a fur collar.

Taking care of him is not difficult, not when he makes decent money at the shelter and when most of his money has been shoved into a savings fund with nothing else to do with it. When his parents had passed away, he had been given money by each of them, and content with his life, he funneled that into savings as well. He never had anything to spend it on, not too fond of amassing as many personal possessions as humanly possible.

Spending it on Grimmjow makes him feel simultaneously lighter and happier than anything ever has before, even if Grimmjow’s eyes continue to light up with surprise every single time. Ulquiorra loves seeing his expressions when he’s happy even if it makes his heart constrict a little at the notion that Grimmjow has been treated so poorly his entire life that something as simple as buying him warm clothing for the coming winter, or buying him what he wants at the grocery store, is enough to have him positively glowing.

When they return home from a day spent in the city doing nothing more than shopping, Ulquiorra is tired by satisfied. Grimmjow stretches and yawns as soon as he closes the door, locking it up like Ulquiorra has patiently taught him to do before he shrugs out of his new coat, hanging it up on the rack. He’s a  _ neat _ hybrid too, which Ulquiorra adores.

“Did you have fun today?” Ulquiorra asks him, setting their several bags on the floor.

“I did! It was a lot of fun, actually.” Grimmjow’s tail swishes airily behind him as he leans down, wrapping his arms around Ulquiorra’s shoulders, rubbing his cheek against Ulquiorra’s own as a soft mewl leaves his lips. “You’re the best human in the whole world, Quiorra.”

_ I haven’t done a single thing to earn that title, _ Ulquiorra thinks, but he doesn’t try to push it with Grimmjow, instead wrapping the cat up in his arms and hugging him so tight Grimmjow squeaks down at him. “Sorry. It just makes me so happy to see you smiling like this.”

“You’re the one who’s caused it.” Grimmjow licks up the side of his face and Ulquiorra laughs, wiping the wetness away with the sleeve of his sweater. “I’m gonna help you take this stuff to my room and then get in the shower to warm up. Unless you wanna use it first?”

“I showered before we left, remember,” Ulquiorra tells him. “The hot water is all yours.”

Grimmjow purrs in delight and Ulquiorra laughs again, gathering up the bags and following his kitten down the hallway to his room, watching him unlock the door and push it open to let them both inside. To his relief, Grimmjow has taken to locking the door which means he accepts the space as his own and wants to keep it as such. Ulquiorra gave him the key for a reason, after all, and made sure not to have a spare copy on himself at all so Grimmjow would have the security and the reassurance the space is his and his alone.

They set the bags down on his bed and Ulquiorra helps him take out the clothes, removing price tags and hangers because he has better ones. Together, they get the clothing all taken care of, and then Ulquiorra helps Grimmjow arrange the other trinkets they’d picked up together around the room as he sees fit. There are a few books for the bookcase, and Grimmjow paws at him to go retrieve what he’d specifically asked Ulquiorra to do for him.

When Grimmjow asked him for the photograph frame, Ulquiorra knew what he wanted to do with it; he’d bothered Aizen about taking a nice picture of them at the shelter the last time they were there and now he carefully snaps it into the frame, setting it up on his nightstand.

The sight of it makes something in Ulquiorra’s chest ache. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I did it for me, not for you.” Grimmjow’s tail swishes happily and he sits down on the bed, taking Ulquiorra by the wrist to bring Ulquiorra’s fingers to his ears, perked up high and so soft now that he’s been using expensive soaps on them. “Now give me some real attention.”

This is a familiar routine, Ulquiorra coming to stand between Grimmjow’s spread thighs so he can rub his soft ears, stroking over the soft backs of them and down to where the bases meet his skull, the most sensitive part of his body it seems. Grimmjow presses into his touch eagerly and purrs, wrapping his arms around Ulquiorra’s waist, pressing his face against Ulquiorra’s chest. When he looks up at him, he blinks so slowly, soft sweeps of blue eyelashes along his cheekbones until Ulquiorra understands and blinks back down at him.

It’s a very cat hybrid way of saying  _ I love you. _

“Get in the shower, pretty kitten.” Ulquiorra leans down to kiss his forehead and Grimmjow’s purr intensifies as it always does when Ulquiorra himself chooses to increase the intimacy of the contact between them. “Enjoy yourself. I’ll start on dinner for us.”

“Ah, I was going to ask, actually.” Grimmjow looks almost guilty and Ulquiorra frowns, scratches behind his ears until he’s grinning again. “That Chinese place Aizen mentioned at work…”

Ulquiorra nods in understanding. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll order it for you.”

After he makes sure he has what Grimmjow wants memorized, he sends him off to shower, pulls out his phone, and makes the order. He clears away the shopping bags and tags and plastic and everything else they made a mess of, shoving it all in one of the bags with the intent of taking it to the trash can and disposing of it. It’s on his way out that he sees the photograph again— Grimmjow, astoundingly handsome, half-wrapped around him out in front of the tree, his cheek pressed to the top of Ulquiorra’s head. Ulquiorra’s arms wrapped around him, the first photograph he’s ever properly smiled in. His eyes are crinkled, even.

It makes his throat feel full and his chest feel light and he walks to the back door with a bounce in his step, unable to deny how happy he feels, how truly settled he is right now.

The delivery man comes and goes while Grimmjow is in the shower and Ulquiorra is just setting out the food when his cell phone rings. He doesn’t look at the caller ID before hitting the accept button, setting it on speaker so he can still work. “Ulquiorra Cifer, how can I assist you?”

_ “You must not have the television turned on.” _ Aizen sounds exhausted and Ulquiorra pauses at his wording, his hands frozen in the air.  _ “There’s been an incident at the shelter, Ulquiorra.” _

His blood runs cold as soon as the words end. “What… Aizen-san, what exactly happened?”

A million thoughts are running through his mind. An incident… A break-in? A fire? Someone holed up in there with a gun, using their hybrids as hostages? Ulquiorra’s knees almost go out from under him at that thought. Orihime would cry and Yoruichi would get herself hurt trying to protect all of them and Kira wouldn’t eat for days, and—

_ “You know how new hybrids tend to show up at night and we find them in the morning? This one was being followed, it seems.” _ Aizen stops speaking for a moment and Ulquiorra is moving to check to see if the call has ended all together when he sighs into the phone.  _ “He fought to protect himself and there was… The injuries are very severe. I’m at the police station now because they needed to go over property laws. They’ve thrown him into a cell” _

“Those motherfuckers!” Ulquiorra slams his hands down on the table.

Aizen sighs again, though it sounds like more of an exhale than anything else.  _ “Yes, my sentiments exactly. I need you down here to assist me. He’s terrified. He’s also… Terrifying, but I’ll leave you to figure that out when you get here. Are you busy right now?” _

“Let me tell Grimmjow what’s going on and I’ll be there.” A hybrid in a jail cell all for defending himself on property where he should have been safe. Ulquiorra hopes the injuries he gave whoever tried to follow him scar and cause permanent damage. “Give me ten minutes.”

_ “Thank you, Ulquiorra.” _ The call cuts off, and Ulquiorra runs his hands down his face.

In what seems like no time Grimmjow is wrapped around his back, holding him tight, hands rubbing soothing circles up the front of his chest and stomach. “Breathe, Quiorra.”

“You heard the phone call, then.” Ulquiorra wants to scream, to break something at how fucking  _ unfair _ everything is for hybrids. And that… That could have been Grimmjow, because he would have fileted anyone who tried to chase him down without a second thought.

“I did.” Grimmjow nuzzles the back of his neck and Ulquiorra closes his eyes, using Grimmjow’s closeness and presence to soothe himself. “I’ll keep your food warm for you, but go ahead and go deal with it. I’ll be right here when you get back. And remember to breathe ‘cause you ending up in a cell right beside this hybrid isn’t going to do anyone any favors.”

God, but if that isn’t the truth. “Thank you, kitten. You’re a rock even when I can’t be.”

Grimmjow turns him around and starts scenting him, and when Ulquiorra rolls his eyes, Grimmjow licks him on the nose. “Stop that. You smelling like a hybrid might help him calm down when you eventually get to him. He’s not gonna see you as just another human who might hurt him if you smell like happy cat, right? So just stand here and tolerate it for me.”

“Are you certain this isn’t just a jealousy thing?” Ulquiorra asks him.

“Hey, if something that helps him out doubles as proving my claim over you, then all the more reason to do it, right?” Grimmjow grins wickedly at him, then smoothes Ulquiorra’s hair back from his face and nuzzles his forehead, purring softly at him. “Go do your thing for him like you did for me. Get him out of that fucking cell at the very least.”

Ulquiorra nods, squeezing Grimmjow around the middle for an added confidence boost because he’s going to need what he can get. “Don’t stay up if I’m gone too late. I want you to get as much rest as you can even if I’m not here with you. If you want, and if you choose to leave your door open, I can come in to tell you that I came back if I’m gone too late.”

“Okay. I like that idea.” Grimmjow hugs him back, then stands Ulquiorra at an arm’s distance. His skin is flushed from the heat of the shower, his hair and fur still damp, but he looks so at peace that it quiets the panic in Ulquiorra’s gut. “Now go. Before it gets any later.”

For added measure against the cold, Ulquiorra throws a coat on top of his sweater and grabs his keys, his wallet with his license still in his pocket because he hasn’t had a chance to properly wind down tonight. He’s in the car and driving within seconds of shutting the door behind him, his hands almost shaking as he grips the steering wheel with a panicky tightness. As long as the fight happened on their property, they can’t hold the hybrid and fuck, he’s going to have to hose down the sidewalk if there’s blood because the hybrids will be able to smell it.

They probably heard the fight, at that. Double fuck.

Aizen’s car is parked in front of the police station and Ulquiorra parks next to him, out the door in a matter of seconds once more and throwing himself in through the doors. Aizen is waiting for him at the desk, his expression pinched and tired, dark circles under his eyes. There’s no way to ignore the visible relief in his gaze when he sees Ulquiorra, though he does pause for just a moment, looking him up and down before yanking Ulquiorra into an embrace, hushing him as he rubs his hands up and down Ulquiorra’s back. He doesn’t  _ need _ this, but he lets Aizen do it because he thinks Aizen might need it more than he does.

This is the man who gave him his first job when he had no references and no experience to speak of really, who trusted him with the vulnerable hybrids in his care, who let Ulquiorra remake the office to his own liking. Because of this man, Ulquiorra was able to meet Grimmjow, the best thing that’s ever happened to him. So he lets Aizen cling and he grips Aizen by his elbows, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of emotion that besieges him.

“He’s in bad shape,” Aizen says, and Ulquiorra expected that but it’s still upsetting to have to hear it out loud. “Please go talk him down, if you can. He’s so panicked after everything and he’s… He might be truly violent, Ulquiorra, I don’t know. If he is, there’s not much we can do in the way of housing him, but even doing this one thing for him will mean something.”

“Please tell me he isn’t in with general population.” He can’t think of anything else.

“They left him cuffed in a room by himself.” The fact he’s  _ cuffed _ almost makes it worse than gen pop, actually. “Go take good care of him for me, please, I’ll be in not long after.”

An officer at the desk leads Ulquiorra to the room with the hybrid in question and he pauses to look in through the small window in the door, knowing that rooms like this are not quite classed as solitary confinement because they aren’t. These rooms are for offenders that might be dangerous in gen pop, or it might be dangerous for them. Either way, he fucking hates it.

“I’d watch him if I were you,” the officer tells him, unlocking the door to let Ulquiorra inside. “He’s a nasty thing and he’s not above biting, but muzzeling isn’t legal anymore.”

The bottom of Ulquiorra’s stomach drops. “Well I’m fucking glad it’s not, actually.”

“Just it’s on you if you get rabies, I’m just saying.” The officer rolls his eyes as if Ulquiorra is the one being unnecessarily dramatic, then waves him inside.

The hybrid, as it turns out,  _ is _ terrifying. He’s huge— Tall, Ulquiorra amends, because it looks like he hasn’t eaten in a long time, all skin and bone stretched over sinew. Long, long limbs and long hair that’s ratty and dirty and knotted. He’s also almost naked, his clothes worn ragged and torn with holes all through them, and the nights must have been unkind to him. There are bruises and scrapes, and some of them are infected. Ulquiorra’s stomach rolls.

Some of the bruises are fresh. Some of the scrapes are fresh. But quite a lot of the blood on the hybrid’s skin does not belong to him, that much Ulquiorra can tell from the splatter. It’s about to ask how in the hell this could have happened when the hybrid lifts his head and  _ hisses. _

Oh. Oh shit. He walked in here without asking what kind of hybrid this was.

Dark tangled hair covers half of the hybrid’s face, but the other half is visible and Ulquiorra can see one horizontally slitted grey eye staring up at him, narrowed in disgust. For a hair’s breadth of a moment it looked like there were bruises laid along his cheekbones until he tilted his head and the harsh white light above shone iridescent on his skin.

Not his skin. His  _ scales. _ Ulquiorra was staring down a snake hybrid.

“Hello.” He stays in the doorway, not sure he wants to come any closer, his eyes landing on the handcuffs clinking together around the snake’s slender wrists. “They really did leave you cuffed, those fuckers. I can’t believe this. Take these cuffs off him right now!”

The officer arches an eyebrow at him. “That’s a snake. He severely injured three men.”

“And  _ why _ would he have felt the need to injure those three men, I wonder?” Ulquiorra wants to throw a punch but that would definitely get him thrown in jail. “And on shelter property? He’s not at fault here. Either you take the handcuffs off of him or give me the key to do it myself.”

The chill in the room registers a second later, and his voice jumps several octaves; the officer drops the keys in reaction. “He’s a  _ snake _ and you left him in a cold room!”

Before the officer can answer him, Ulquiorra picks up the keys and walks into the room, thinking that he really ought not to take such liberties with a type of hybrid that has a record of being violent. He still kneels in front of the snake, as careful as he can to unlock the handcuffs, pissed beyond all measure to see angry red wheels already forming on the pale, pale skin. The snake hisses softly, rubbing the sore skin, and Ulquiorra throws the cuffs in the general direction of he door because he’s going to lose his mind if he has to look at them more.

“Aren’t you an interesting one?” The snake looks him up and down, leans forward for one hypnotic moment and then jerks his head back. “You smell like something.”

“My cat hybrid, Grimmjow.” Ulquiorra doesn’t mince words, looks the snake up and down and winces at the state of him. “You came to us for help and instead, someone tried to hurt you. I’m so sorry. We should do something about hybrids that show up at night.”

The snake scoffs at him, flexing his very long fingers. There are bruises on every knuckle, which meant he’d been fighting. “Nothing new for me. I’ve been chased most of my life.”

“I’m sorry this happened. You shouldn’t have to deal with something like that, no matter who you are or what breed of hybrid you happen to be.” Ulquiorra touches the snake’s arm, unsurprised to find him far too cold. If he gets much colder, his body will shut down and he might risk going into shock and eventually dying.  _ Would _ have, if Aizen hadn’t called.

The slight touch earns him another hiss, the snake jerking away from him, curling his long body into an impossibly small ball as he no doubt tries to remain as warm as he can. “You don’t get a free pass to grope me just ‘cause you can spout some pretty words.”

Fuck. Ulquiorra really is in over his head with this one. “I was checking your body temperature. Snake hybrids don’t do well in cold rooms, and it was cold outside, too.”

“So you know basic biology. I’m impressed.” The snake narrows his one eye at him again, then glances up and over his shoulder. “Ah, the old man returns. What do you want now?”

“Ulquiorra.” Aizen addresses him and Ulquiorra turns around to look up at him, eyebrows raised in question. “They’re going to release him to our care. The incident took place entirely on our property and that’s where they were found. We’re allowed to take him to the shelter.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” the snake murmurs. “Don’t you know what kinda stuff happens when you let a snake into the chicken coop, after all?”

“Fox,” Ulquiorra corrects him, and the snake immediately scowls. “The saying is about letting a fox into the chicken coop, and luckily for you, we’ve already done that once. Either you can sit here in the cold and eventually pass out, or you can leave with us and have a nice bed to sleep in for the night. And food. Have you eaten anything in the last two weeks?”

The snake sighs at him. “Fine, fine. Only because I’m on the verge of passing out, though.”

“Good. Oh.” Ulquiorra pinches the bridge of my nose. “My manners. I’m Ulquiorra Cifer and this is Aizen Sosuke. We run the shelter. Do you have a name you go by?”

“Nnoitra.” The entire lack of sibilants is vaguely surprising but Ulquiorra chooses not to comment on it, instead taking the snake— Nnoitra— by the elbow to help him stand. Despite his prickly demeanor, his legs are trembling either from hunger or the cold.

“We’re going to have to hire someone to watch over the shelter at night when we aren’t there,” Aizen muses, letting Nnoitra grab onto his arm to maintain his balance, though the snake doesn’t exactly look happy to have to do this. “I’ll put up a notice tomorrow for it. If we can get someone in before the winter, all the better for everyone involved.”

Ulquiorra nods, already running through the mental checklist of what he’ll have to do and where to post a notice online so they can get someone in fast. This is a university city at least, surely at least one college kid wouldn’t mind staying up all night. “I’ll put some up online. Don’t you have a remote start on your car? Start it up. He’s going to freeze at this rate.”

Nnoitra huffs down at him, baring his fangs— he has  _ fangs _ and Ulquiorra just stares at them. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing right next to you, Cifer.”

“Okay. Fine. I’m asking Aizen-san to start his car for you so that you don’t freeze to death on the drive to the shelter.” Ulquiorra is used to hybrids being rude but the way this one— Who must  _ easily _ be over six feet tall— looms over him is something else. “You need to get into the shower when we get there, too. I want to look at some of those wounds of yours.”

Nnoitra eyes him critically for a moment before twisting his head away, a strangely movement that looks borderline unnatural. “Whatever. If they haven’t killed me yet, then they won’t.”

“Some of them look infected and I don’t want to walk in and find you oozing pus and dying on one of our beds,” Ulquiorra argues, not in the mood for a hybrid acting like he knows more.

“Would that be so bad?” Nnoitra wonders, and Ulquiorra sighs. He should have  _ known _ it would be like this and can only hope Aizen can handle him on the car ride.

Because of course he does, Nnoitra makes a very big deal about not wanting to get into the car, and is sulking once Ulquiorra all but pushes him inside. The shelter is not far from here but he wants a headstart anyway and peels out of the driveway, riding the edge of the speed limit as he books it for the shelter. He’s going to have an entire building’s worth of hybrids to comfort and another to spend likely half of the night trying to calm down and deal with.

Peace never lasts for long but  _ Christ _ , he really hadn’t seen this coming. He’ll call Grimmjow as soon as he parks to give his kitten a head’s up. And then he’ll make Aizen give him the next day off to make up for this so he can spend all day curled up on the couch with his favorite hybrid in the world.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you've gotten a big hint considering who our new hybrid is in this chapter, but have fun trying to guess who the new employee at the shelter is going to be~


	10. Chapter 10

Grimmjow promised Ulquiorra he wouldn’t wait up for him. That much is true. But maybe he kept it to himself that Ulquiorra’s movement in the apartment would be enough to stir him from sleep, that cat hybrids can wake up quickly from sleep even from small noises like socked footsteps.

He lies in bed and listens to Ulquiorra let himself into the apartment, the spray of the shower and soft cursing mixed in with everything else. When his bedroom door finally opens— he did leave it unlocked like he said he would because he knows he can trust Ulquiorra to do right by him— he sits up in bed, hugging a knee to his chest. The shower had done so much but Ulquiorra still looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. A glance at the clock on the bedside table shows Grimmjow that the time is well after three in the morning and his heart throbs in sympathy.

“You shouldn’t have waited up for me,” Ulquiorra murmurs, not even close to admonishing.

“I just woke up.” It’s the truth, after all, and Grimmjow is glad he did because his human looks like something awful happened to him tonight. “C’mere and tell me about what happened.”

Ulquiorra leans heavily against the doorway, muffling a yawn against the palm of his hand. “You mind if we talk downstairs? I need to eat before I go to bed. No work tomorrow, luckily.”

“I thought yesterday was your day off,” Grimmjow murmurs, slipping out of bed and padding over to his human, nosing him worriedly. There’s the faintest scent of another hybrid on his skin but Grimmjow is just a little thrilled that mostly, Ulquiorra just smells like him.

“Because of how late I was at the shelter, Aizen-san told me to spend the day sleeping and spending time with you.” Ulquiorra leans into him and Grimmjow squeaks a little when Ulquiorra hugs him around the middle, arms pressing tight against his sides, face buried against his chest. Ulquiorra’s voice is muffled like this, but Grimmjow can still hear him. “Which is good because I think if I just go into work like normal I might just have a breakdown or something.”

Carefully, Grimmjow nuzzles the top of his head. “C’mon, let’s go to the kitchen. I made sure to wrap your food up so it wouldn’t get cold or anything. You look like you need it.”

“You’re the best kitty cat in the whole world,” Ulquiorra pronounces, and, well, Grimmjow could tell him that he doesn’t really have proof, but it’s not worth the argument.

He sets Ulquiorra’s food out for him and gets him something to drink, pulling up his chair closer to Ulquiorra’s own so he can sit as close to him as possible. While he had been able to fall asleep after a couple of hours, the reality had been frightening; the idea of Ulquiorra confronting a dangerous hybrid made him concerned his human would come home injured and that Grimmjow might have to march down to the shelter and kick someone’s ass for hurting him. Or that Ulquiorra might end up in the hospital with serious injuries.

He can’t help looking him over critically. “So what happened with the hybrid at the shelter?”

“When I got to the police station, he was in the worst shape I’ve ever seen a hybrid in in my entire life.” Ulquiorra looks pained just talking about it and Grimmjow’s ears turn back just a little at the sight of the morose expression on Ulquiorra’s pale face. “He was a snake hybrid, and they had him locked up in a cold room. He was weak from it. Had we gotten there any later, he might have been in a coma by the time we found him. And I think they knew that.”

The bottom of Grimmjow’s stomach drops out at the thought; snake hybrids are rare but most people with a brain know they happen to have trouble regulating their body temperature just like the reptiles themselves do. Cold rooms can be murder and he can’t imagine how hard it must have been living on the street with winter approaching and no real way to stay warm.

Ulquiorra picks at his rice, and his voice seems to drop in volume and become more monotone with each small detail he recalls. “His hair was a mess. He was bruised and bloody. He has a few small infections I think I caught in time. I don’t think he’s eaten in maybe over a week and he was slightly dehydrated. It probably took all of his strength to defend himself.”

“Snake hybrids are tough like that.” Grimmjow places a hand on Ulquiorra’s knee, wanting to give him any foundation he can right now, any small source of comfort. “I knew a cobra at one of my homes back when I was like, a little kid. He was… Tough as shit. They took his venom sacs when he was maybe seven years old and I couldn’t believe he could survive that.”

“Seven years old.” Ulquiorra sets his chopsticks down and presses his face into the palms of his hands, shaking his head slowly. Distress rises off of him in waves.

Grimmjow knocks their chairs together in his effort to wrap his arms around Ulquiorra, pressing his face against the side of his neck. “Please don’t be upset. I know it’s hard to hear but I’m sure he’s still alive. It would take unseen amounts of godly forces to kill Nnoitra.”

There’s a moment where Ulquiorra goes tense in his arms and he thinks he might have done something wrong, the panic flaring bright and hot in his chest. He can  _ feel _ it, the way Ulquiorra’s muscles seize beneath his fingers, his body seeming to contract in on itself with the movement and the scent of upset only grows stronger. It’s too familiar and Grimmjow doesn’t even realize he’s on his knees until Ulquiorra’s hands are resting so lightly on top of his head, fingers soothing through his hair. It takes him a minute to realize he’s whimpering.

“Kitten.” Ulquiorra’s voice is so soft, so concerned. “I’m not angry with you. I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never even think about it. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

Slowly, Grimmjow lifts his head, blinking up at Ulquiorra through his lashes. “I… I guess I just… Reacted on instinct. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

When he stands, Ulquiorra takes him gently by the wrists and tugs and he finds himself in Ulquiorra’s lap a moment later, familiar arms wound tight around his waist to help him keep his balance. “It’s all right. It’s been hard for you. I can understand having that reaction.”

“You’re not upset I thought you were dangerous for a minute?” He can’t describe how worried he is over Ulquiorra’s answer and what it might mean for the two of them.

Ulquiorra has been almost flawless. Maybe expecting him to be perfect is selfish, but Grimmjow can’t help but hold out hope that Ulquiorra will continue to prove him wrong about humans.

“Of course not. You’ve been through so much. I’m not going to blame you for reactions you can’t control.” Ulquiorra’s fingers slip behind his ear and Grimmjow sighs softly, leaning into his touch and his warmth, the familiarity of his gentle acceptance. “Just. You said Nnoitra. And the snake hybrid that we picked up from that jail cell was also named Nnoitra.”

Grimmjow’s brain threatens to fissure under the weight of this information and all he can do is stare into Ulquiorra’s eyes, not sure what to say. What to think. The last time he saw Nnoitra was when the cobra had broken one of the windows in the house, more like  _ prison, _ they lived in together. A desperate bid for freedom even though a child would have never survived on the streets, not at then-thirteen years old. The fact that he survived long enough for Ulquiorra and Aizen to run across him seems impossible. How many winters did he survive outside?

_ How many winters did he survive only to have the inept human police almost kill him by locking him in a room that was too cold for him? _

“You know him.” Ulquiorra breathes this out and Grimmjow nods slowly, though it feels like this cannot possibly be true. “Let me ask you a question. Did he have both eyes back then?”

The question gives Grimmjow more emotional whiplash than he knows how to handle. “Of course he did, I… Wait. He doesn’t anymore. You’re telling me he doesn’t.”

“He only has the one. His left eye is now missing. It looks like it happened years ago, but the scarring makes me think it must have been violent and hurt very much.” Ulquiorra shakes his head slowly, and Grimmjow swallows down bile at the thought. He has scars, plenty of them, but not like that. Nothing like that. “Don’t tell him I said that. The moment I expressed the slightest amount of concern for his physical trauma, he screamed at me.”

That has Grimmjow snorting. “That’s Nnoitra. He doesn’t like pity, and he reads concern as pity. Is he going to be okay at the shelter during the day? Is Aizen working alone?”

“Gin will be with him which will keep him safe should Nnoitra act up, but mostly he just seemed tired so I don’t think it’s going to be an option.” Ulquiorra shrugs. “As long as he keeps his hands to himself, he can be snappy and mean, I don’t mind so much.”

It isn’t as though Grimmjow can reassure him that Nnoitra will play nice because Nnoitra was renown even as a child for how brutal and awful he could be when provoked, which prompted plenty of punishment as a result. There were nothing but physical attempts to correct his behavior, and nothing ever really kept him down for long, but it made him hard and cruel and he pushed everyone and everything away as a result.

Of course, it happens. Nnoitra is hardly an exception to the rule; he’d just bolted when it finally got to the point where dying on the streets but free sounded like a better life than living as a prisoner. The same conclusion Grimmjow would come to some dozen years later.

Fuck. He never thought he would see Nnoitra ever again. He’s been living his life with the assumption Nnoitra died not long after leaving when they never found him again. Plenty of hybrids run, but the kids tend to not make it very far before they get dragged back.

“I’ve obviously told you a lot tonight,” Ulquiorra murmurs. “Or this morning. I’m sorry to distress you further. I just wanted to know the timeframe we were working with for some of his injuries. We can’t do anything about a missing eye, but… I suppose I didn’t want to entertain the thought that a child had been maimed to that degree by a human adult.”

“Having his venom sacs removed is worse than that,” Grimmjow says automatically, and Ulquiorra winces and nods, picking at his food. “They’re a defense mechanism. Snake hybrids that aren’t constrictors have trouble building body muscle, so venom helps them protect themselves. His fangs can leave nasty bites, but they’re just flesh wounds.”

Ulquiorra’s lips are soft against his jaw. “I’m sorry. I misspoke. I’ll learn more about the extent of such injuries so I don’t make such a thoughtless remark again.”

He’s the only good fucking human in the world. Grimmjow is absolutely sure of it.

When Ulquiorra finishes eating, Grimmjow cleans up the plate for him, his mind whirring as he wipes down the table just to have something to do with his hands. Nnoitra, alive? Nnoitra, probably in a bed in a private room at the shelter right now? It’s inconceivable to him. The stupidly tall at thirteen noodle of a boy on the cusp of puberty, voice cracking as he pulled himself through the broken window, scarred and beaten just like the rest of them.

Grimmjow thought he was dead. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to believe the opposite until he sees Nnoitra with his own two eyes to confirm it for himself.

Instead of going up to bed, Ulquiorra hovers in the kitchen, checking the setting on their coffee pot and loading it so it will brew around the time he wants to get out of bed. He looks at Grimmjow for so long that Grimmjow lifts his head, shutting off the sink taps and raising an eyebrow.  _ Say what you want to say, I know there’s something there. _

“You can say no,” Ulquiorra murmurs, and Grimmjow tenses, his ears twitching back on instinct. “Do you want to share my bed tonight? Just as a partner to cuddle with.”

“Oh.” Grimmjow blinks at him. Where he thought that was going, he doesn’t know. Not here, certainly. “You that out of sorts after dealing with Nnoitra? He’s a bit rough, isn’t he?”

Ulquiorra hums and nods but then sighs and leans against the counter. “He’s not really the problem. I just… I saw him like that, and when I was helping Aizen-san clean him up, I kept thinking about how that could have been you. If someone had followed you to the shelter that night. If someone had hurt you the same way they hurt him.”

“Quiorra…” Grimmjow doesn’t know what to say. He’s never had a human show him this level of concern before and it’s new to him. All of this is new to him.

But the way Ulquiorra looks at him, soft and sad through the eyes, makes his heart hurt. It really could have been him; Nnoitra was probably being hunted down because he was a snake, and snakes are rare and even disfigured and sickly would fetch plenty of money. Their old owner was so fond of him even if she constantly tried to beat him into submission, a fucked-up view for sure, but she probably would have bought him back. Grimmjow knows just how that goes down.

He dries his hands on a dish towel and hangs it on the oven handle before turning and opening his arms. “C’mere. You look like you need more hugs right now.”

Maybe he does, too. It’s hard to think about the past without needing it.

“You’re wonderful.” Ulquiorra steps into his arms without a second thought, wraps his own around Grimmjow’s waist and looks up at him with eyes so soft it makes Grimmjow want to hide himself away just to escape how intense that gaze can somehow be. “Thank you, kitten. It’s been a very long night and I feel bad for putting anything on you. You’ve been so happy.”

“I’m still happy. A little outside drama doesn’t change that.” He licks Ulquiorra on the nose for emphasis, beaming when Ulquiorra laughs and presses his face into Grimmjow’s shirt.

It would probably be weird for Grimmjow to call this bliss, as little as this would probably be to most people, but standing in the kitchen late at night, wrapped in a mutually comforting embrace with someone he can trust, is basically perfect for him. A dream he thought he would never reach, one so bright and distant he might burn his fingers just trying to reach for it.

And now he holds it in the cup of his palm, and he almost doesn’t know how to handle it.

“You want me to share your bed for real?” he asks, tail swishing slowly at the thought. This, but all night, under the warm and soft bedding.  _ Oh, that sounds fucking great actually. _

“Just for tonight. It doesn’t need to be an every night thing. It’s been a long night for both of us now, I think.” Ulquiorra yawns as if to illustrate his point and Grimmjow snickers down at him. “As I said, you can say no and I won’t fault you for it. I just thought it might be nice.”

_ Less lonely, _ Grimmjow thinks but doesn’t say. “Okay. I’m up for giving that a try.”

Ulquiorra’s hand moves up to his head and he happily pushes into the soft ear rubs he’s given, purring at Ulquiorra’s touch. “Thank you. I’m very grateful. Let’s go to my room so I can get dressed for bed. Unless you wanted to get a snack while we’re in here?”

“I’m still full from dinner. I’m good.” He tilts his head, bites Ulquiorra’s arm through his sleeve, but not hard, just a little. Just an affectionate and playful press of his teeth.

Ulquiorra’s bedroom is understated, as Grimmjow thought it might be, but warm just the same, and he looks at the photographs on the walls as Ulquiorra pulls out his pajamas for bed. He has photos of the shelter hybrids in here, some Grimmjow doesn’t know and some he knows well, and other people he assumes are friends and family. He turns to ask and pauses when he realizes Ulquiorra is standing there in nothing but his underwear, almost nude.

Grimmjow has never seen him in this little of clothing before.

His body is lean and toned under his clothes as it turns out, defined muscles in his biceps and abdominal muscles that are visible if not as carved as Grimmjow’s own. But he’s compact and he’s  _ beautiful, _ all that flawless pale skin almost like marble. It takes Grimmjow’s breath away in a fashion he never expected and his tail flicks through the air behind him; there’s no hiding his interest now. It feels strange, looking at Ulquiorra like this. Though he’d thought to himself that the human man was pretty very often, this is… This is different.

Shit. This is maybe not a good set of feelings to be juggling at a time like this.

Ulquiorra pulls his pajama top over his head and the moment is shattered, Grimmjow blinking rapidly to draw himself back to the present moment. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. You must be so tired, Grimm. I wish I had been able to get home sooner than I did.”

“We can just sleep in tomorrow, so it’s no big deal.” He glances at the clock and winces. “Or I guess it’s today, technically. That’s cool, right?”

The smile Ulquiorra gives him makes his knees knock together. “Of course. It’s been a long time since I’ve shared a bed with someone, admittedly, so let me know if I do something like hog the covers or push you over to the edge. I might not even realize.”

“Sure thing.” Grimmjow takes a running leap and bounces on the bed, mewling happily.

Ulquiorra turns back the bedding for them both and Grimmjow crawls beneath it, stretching himself out on the mattress, burying his face in a pillow and inhaling deeply; everything here smells like Ulquiorra, the scent of his skin and hair. A scent Grimmjow has come to associate with safety and warmth and protection so much that his entire body sags into it like it’s wrapping around him in a comforting embrace. Ulquiorra lays down next to him and Grimmjow doesn’t hesitate, his arm locking around that slender waist and dragging Ulquiorra against his chest.

“I have to turn off the lamp,” Ulquiorra reminds him, and Grimmjow relents. For two seconds.

Then he buries his face in Ulquiorra’s neck and breathes him in, and Ulquiorra giggles in his arms, squirming like he must be ticklist. The thought is charming and Grimmjow runs a hand down his side, fingers digging in experimentally until Ulquiorra squeaks and squirms ore.

“That’s dangerous information for me to know,” he says, and Ulquiorra pouts at him.

He doesn’t say it right then and there, but he could mark Ulquiorra as his own with something more than his scent, something a hell of a lot more permanent. Not now, not when Ulquiorra has had such a rough night, but he files the thought away for later and simply noses his throat, picking up the scent of his body beneath the soap he’d used in the shower. Nnoitra’s scent is there too, but whisper faint. It’ll be gone when the sun rises.

“You’re a lot more cuddly than I expected,” Ulquiorra says, arms settling around Grimmjow’s shoulders, fingers tracing the curves of his shoulder blades.

But that feels wrong, because Ulquiorra is the one in need of comfort the most, so Grimmjow shifts to pull Ulquiorra’s body up against his own, tucking his chin on top of soft, glossy black hair perfumed with shampoo and conditioner. “I like cuddling. It’s comforting.”

“Hybrids are so touchy but you’re extra touchy.” It sounds half-teasing but Grimmjow doesn’t mind because it’s the truth. “It’s nice, actually. Your affection. It makes me happy.”

_ I make him happy. _ Grimmjow purrs and nuzzles the top of Ulquiorra’s head. “Glad to help.”

“ _ You _ make me happy,” Ulquiorra says, as if he can read Grimmjow’s mind, as if he’s trying to melt him from the outside in. “My pretty kitty trying to take care of me. Thank you.”

God, he’s fucking perfect. Maybe the best human Grimmjow has ever known, will ever know even if he lives another eight lives. So he settles in for the night, grooming Ulquiorra’s hair here and there as necessary, enjoying the way Ulquiorra’s fingers brush over his back until, eventually, Ulquiorra finally falls asleep. He’s cute when he sleeps, breathing slow and soft, face smoothed out and serene. Grimmjow’s heart constricts powerfully at the sight and he realizes Ulquiorra must trust him to, to be so vulnerable around Grimmjow right now.

He’s never going to hurt Ulquiorra, ever. He’s never going to betray that trust. Instead, he’s going to protect this human and take care of him the best he can.

They’ll deal with Nnoitra, and anything else that comes up. They’ll deal with it together. Grimmjow is sure of that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so some of you are probably wondering why i haven't been updating as much lately.
> 
> becoming mere silhouettes is taking up most of my time and it's nearing its end. this chapter isn't me saying "oh i'll be able to update regularly now" this is just me finishing this chapter i've been working on for like a week now. but after november updates will pick back up as my big project will be completed.
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this. sweet kitty and his human having some really nice quality time together.


	11. Chapter 11

The man who sits on the other side of the kitchen table is unremarkable in every sense of the word, slightly shaggy dirty blond hair, one pale brown eye, and broad shoulders hidden beneath a worn plaid button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal impressive forearms. When Ulquiorra came in this morning— regretfully, because Grimmjow spent a second night in his bed and leaving Grimmjow’s warm embrace to come to work is not exactly incentive to get up— Aizen asked him to handle the interview for him. Pleading ignorance about knowing what would be best for their hybrids and simultaneously expressing a desire to keep an eye on Nnoitra, who has done nothing but cause trouble since he’s been here.

Ulquiorra makes their possible new night hire wait while he checks on Nnoitra’s injuries. The snake hybrid has created a nest in front of the back door where the sunlight pours in for most of the day, dragging his bedding out of his room and curling up there to nap. For the most part, he hardly responds to Ulquiorra’s questions and allows Ulquiorra to move his limbs as needed to check beneath the bandages, replacing a few that bother him.

When he sits down at the table, the man slips his cell phone back into his pocket and folds his hands neatly on the table in front of him. “Busy morning, huh?”

“I’ve been off the last two days and I wanted to check on our newest hybrid.” Ulquiorra opens the manila folder Aizen gave him when he walked in, scanning the resume in front of him. “Tesla Lindocruz? Am I pronouncing your name correctly?”

The man— Tesla— nods once. “You are. How exactly do you pronounce your name?”

After giving him a quick lesson in pronunciation, Ulquiorra continues reading the sheet of paper in front of him, scanning the cover letter with a disinterested eye before shutting the folder. “Why do you want to work at a hybrid shelter at night? Do the strange hours suit your needs?”

“They do. I’m a bit of a night owl so it works out better for me to work nights.” Tesla’s eyes slide right where the living room is, where Yoruichi and Kira are bickering over the loveseat. “I like hybrids. I grew up next door to a family who had three of them, a couple and their child, and I was friends with the little boy. When I got older, I realized just how bad their lives were. If they hadn’t had my neighbors taking care of them, they would have been separated.”

Ulquiorra hums and nods; hybrid families are separated just like animals would be. “Very true. Do you understand our mission here, in keeping this shelter and caring for them?”

“Your mission is to find them homes with people who are going to take care of them. While they’re here, you take care of them yourselves.” Tesla looks back at him, waiting patiently.

“Very good. We have a variety of hybrids who live here, different breeds and types, and we endeavor to make sure all of them have what they need to be comfortable.” Ulquiorra cocks a thumb toward Grimmjow, sprawled out in a chair. “Like my own cat, Grimmjow.”

Tesla looks at him for a long, considering moment before he meets Ulquiorra’s eyes once more. “Admittedly, I have never seen a cat hybrid that large in my entire life.”

“Right? When he came to stay here for the first time, he wanted a private room to himself because he didn’t want to stay in any of the more dorm-like rooms we have in the building. So I made this admittance for him.” Ulquiorra opens the folder once more, removing the map of the building Aizen had slipped inside of his reference, sliding it across the table to Tesla. “Most of our bedrooms are like dormitories, but we have private rooms by request and for hybrids that are not allowed to sleep with the others. Hybrids who have special needs.”

_ Like Nnoitra, _ he thinks, but he doesn’t want to say that out loud right now.

“It’s a surprisingly large building, but you have a lot of hybrids here.” Tesla picks the map up and studies it intently. “From what I understand, the property itself is a haven. As long as hybrids are on the property, they have your protection. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes. It used to be enough to guarantee their safety until morning, but we’ve decided that we should have someone here at night to let them in.” Ulquiorra turns his head at the sound of more arguing; Kira has strayed too close to Nnoitra’s nest, gotten himself hissed at as a result.

If Nnoitra is going to cause this much of an issue just being around the others, Ulquiorra is going to have to do something about that. He doesn’t want to think about what, though.

“Which is where I would come in if you hired me.” Tesla hands him the map back, and Ulquiorra returns it to the file. “From what the ad said, I’d be doing paperwork at night, but my real purpose would be to take in hybrids that show up and take care of them.”

“Exactly. Which includes treating their wounds, making sure they take baths or showers, setting them up in a room, and giving them clothes.” Ulquiorra ticks off the items on his fingers, watching Tesla nod as he listens intently. “When we took in our newest hybrid, he had several wounds on his body that needed to be attended to immediately. Such things are important and occasionally time sensitive because even small wounds can inevitably cause sepsis.”

Tesla’s face softens and Ulquiorra studies every line of his face to decide if the expression is genuine enough for his liking. “That’s too bad. I’ve got first aid training where hybrids are concerned. There was a course offered at my college and I got certified.”

“That was in your file. I’m pleased to see it.” Ulquiorra stands up when another long hiss reaches his ears. “Follow me. You’re going to watch me defuse a situation in person.”

Obediently, Tesla follows behind him as he walks into the room, watching Orihime quickly dart away from Nnoitra’s nest. The snake hybrid’s teeth are bared, not a good sign.

“Nnoitra.” Ulquiorra says his name in a low, firm voice that draws the snake’s eyes to him, his lips pressing tight together over his teeth. “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?”

“Oh,” he hears Tesla whisper behind him, and frowns at the sound of it.

“Keep the others  _ away _ from my fucking nest. I am  _ trying _ to sleep.” Nnoitra curls deeper into the pile of blankets he’s wrapped around himself, the ones Ulquiorra had given him to help him stay as warm as possible at night. “I’m not even taking up that much fucking room.”

Ulquiorra takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly, turning to look at the others in the room. “Everyone,  _ please _ stay away from Nnoitra while he’s asleep. He’s asking nicely.”

“Am  _ not, _ ” Nnoitra mutters, but Ulquiorra chooses to ignore that part.

“He’s in front of the door,” Grimmjow says, and Ulquiorra looks back to confirm that Nnoitra is, in fact, right in front of the door. “No one can go in or out because of that and every time they try, he gets pissy about it. I know he’s cold, but he can’t block the entryway.”

Tesla clears his throat softly. “Is it because the sunlight is keeping him warm?”

“Yes.” Ulquiorra frowns; they haven’t had a snake here before, not faced this problem.

“If we moved that table in the corner, he could probably put his nest in front of the baseboard heaters?” Tesla points and Ulquiorra looks in the direction he’s gesturing to, considering. “I can move the table if you want, it’s not that heavy looking. The only thing is, he can’t be pressed right up against them obviously, or he’d catch fire. Otherwise, it should be okay.”

Nnoitra lifts his head slowly from his nest, eye narrowing as he looks Tesla up and down. “Who the fuck are you? Ulquiorra, you said only you and that glasses asshole worked here.”

_ Language, _ Ulquiorra thinks, already exhausted. “We’re going to hire someone to work nights so that a situation like yours cannot occur again, Nnoitra. You won’t even have to interact with him unless you specifically need him for something. He’ll be working in the front office.”

“Are you the hybrid that was injured?” Tesla asks Nnoitra directly, and Ulquiorra turns his head to watch them. “You’re a snake, aren’t you? I can see your scales. They’re very beautiful.”

“If you’re going to move the table, then move it. I want to go back to sleep,” Nnoitra says.

The muscles in Tesla’s arms are, as it turns out, nothing to laugh about; he moves the table with little to no effort whatsoever and Nnoitra relocates his nest to the corner of the room, opening up the doorway once more. Orihime flashes him a smile on her way out, camera in hand, and he assumes she must be prepared to go visit the nest once more. Grimmjow follows not long after, no doubt to help her; he wraps Ulquiorra up in his arms on the way out, dragging his cheek against Ulquiorra’s hair as he goes. When Ulquiorra turns back around, he’s alarmed to see Tesla risking life and limb to kneel down next to Nnoitra’s nest.

“Is it comfortable over here?” he asks, his voice soft, light, and even.

“Yes.” Nnoitra scowls at him but doesn’t hiss, which is at least something, right? “And  _ yes,  _ I’m a snake. Don’t touch my scales or I’ll bite your fucking hand off.”

“Nnoitra, I wouldn’t.” Tesla instead stretches out a hand to run his palm over the smooth, shiny black of Nnoitra’s long hair, smiling just slightly when, on instinct, Nnoitra presses his head up into the touch. “I’ll leave you to rest now. Ulquiorra, shall we continue the interview now?”

“No,” Ulquiorra says, ignoring the surprised look in Tesla’s eye. “You’re hired. Congratulations.”

Tesla’s mouth opens and then closes. “Over something as simple as that? I’m surprised.”

“Your resume is spotless, you have the necessary training, you want to work nights. And you just defused a situation very quickly and efficiently and made sure everyone was happy with the changes made.” Ulquiorra eyes the slowly breathing prone form of Nnoitra on the floor, not sure where his nest ends and his body begins. “So as far as I’m concerned, you’re worth taking the chance on. But if you hurt any of the hybrids who live here, I will fire you instantly.”

“I would never,” Tesla says, and he sounds like he means it as he rises to his feet.

Truth be told, Ulquiorra probably would have hired the first person who was able to handle Nnoitra without losing their temper or losing a limb in the process. Aizen has filled him in on a few incidents that have already occurred in the one day he was gone, Nnoitra hissing and snapping at other hybrids and at Aizen himself. He’d almost bitten Aizen; Gin got between them and put him back in his place, and if he hadn’t the situation would have been a disaster. Ulquiorra hasn’t met a hybrid he thought he would have trouble finding a home for until now.

Grimmjow and Orihime return a few minutes later, Grimmjow eyeing Tesla up and down as he comes to wrap his arm around Ulquiorra’s shoulders. “Who are you supposed to be?”

“Be nice,” Ulquiorra reminds him, but Grimmjow only mewls and nuzzles the side of his neck.

“My name is Tesla Lindocruz and as of today I apparently work here.” Tesla offers his hand and Grimmjow sniffs it curiously, pausing as his eyes slide over Tesla’s shoulder to where Nnoitra is now watching them with a cold gaze. “Is he staring at us? I feel like he’s staring at us.”

“He’s staring at us,” Ulquiorra confirms, and then Nnoitra drops back down into his nest.

Grimmjow shakes Tesla’s hand. “Well, nice to have you around. I’m Ulquiorra’s hybrid and I’m usually here when he is so we’ll only probably see each other on the way in and out.”

“You’re very uniquely large for a cat hybrid, I have to admit, but just as affectionate as all of the others I’ve ever known. It’s very cute.” Tesla says all of this in the most mild-mannered voice humanly possible, and Ulquiorra decides he likes him. “We can go over the details if you want, and then I can start as early as tonight as long as I go home and take a nap first.”

“Excellent. Let’s do that quickly and I’ll let you go,” Ulquiorra tells him.

As soon as he sends Tesla on his way, Grimmjow is pressed up against his back, nosing the nape of his neck and breathing hot and warm over it, sending a little shiver down Ulquiorra’s spine. “He smelled like Nnoitra when I shook his hand. Are they getting along?”

“Nnoitra let Tesla pet him. When Aizen-san tried to touch him yesterday to check on his wounds, he tried to bite him.” He hadn’t tried to bite Ulquiorra, but Grimmjow made it a point to walk up to him and talk to him like they were old friends. Nnoitra even seemed to recognize him.

So Ulquiorra gets to go bite-free probably because of the fact Grimmjow’s scent is heavy on his hair and skin and clothing. He’s grateful for that much given how sharp Nnoitra’s teeth are.

“Anyone who gets along with Nnoitra deserves to be hired on that merit alone.” Ulquiorra moves behind the desk to file the appropriate paperwork. “I’m concerned he might try to injure one of the others with how aggressive he’s been with them already. I’m not exactly fond of it.”

Grimmjow stretches himself across the length of the couch, seemingly comfortable with keeping Ulquiorra company while he works. “He won’t get violent, I promise. He’s not like that. Yeah, he’s kinda mean to everyone and that probably won’t change too much, but he won’t hit any of the hybrids. I can’t promise the same for Aizen. I don’t think he’s gonna hurt you since you’re mine, but Aizen’s… Gonna just have to stay away from him, probably.”

“I’m yours,” Ulquiorra quips, unable to ignore that little slip of the tongue.

“Yeah, you are.” Grimmjow cocks his head, raising an eyebrow as if in challenge. “Just because I haven’t put a mark on you doesn’t change the fact that every hybrid who smells you knows that you’re mine. Even hybrids who don’t know me are going to know you’re taken.”

“You say that like we’re in a relationship.” And instantly he regrets bringing that up at all, trying to ignore the way the tips of his ears burn at the thought. “Um, marking huh?”

Grimmjow clears his throat loudly, and when Ulquiorra chances a glance in his direction, he can see the slightest smidge of pink along Grimmjow’s cheekbones. “Yeah, uh, there’s scent marking obviously which you know about because I’ve done it to you already. But there’s also physical marking. I’d have to put it somewhere where other hybrids could see it.”

_ Oh. _ Ulquiorra has heard of that, only briefly and truth be told he thought it might have been a myth considering he doesn’t know any humans who have marks from their hybrids. Not even Aizen does, and he definitely would have. “What are the purposes of physical marking?”

“Ownership.” Grimmjow says the word without a second thought.

Ulquiorra wets his lips; he can feel Grimmjow’s eyes fixed on him as he types, filing away necessary information for Tesla’s career here. He should make him a list of things to do each day so he doesn’t end up getting confused, stuck, or bored. “Would you want to do that to me?”

“I mean…” Grimmjow is quiet for a long moment and Ulquiorra looks up from his keyboard, struck by how Grimmjow isn’t even looking at him now, fingers all knotted up in the bottom of his sweatshirt. It’s new, and a soft grey, and he looks so comfortable in it that Ulquiorra’s heart hurts just a little at the sight. “I mean, yeah? It’s kind of. It’s the thing you do when you. When. Yeah.”

_ When what? _ Ulquiorra wonders, but doesn’t press the topic when Grimmjow is obviously uncomfortable with discussing the finer details. “Where would you want to put the mark?”

“Most people wear it on the, like, the upper chest.” Grimmjow gestures to the skin over his collarbones. “Or, like, on the neck. I’d have to do it with my teeth.”

He’s talking about a bite mark, Ulquiorra realizes. About sinking his teeth into Ulquiorra’s skin deep enough to leave a scar behind, a mark for other hybrids to see and pick up the meaning of without another word. “That sounds like it would be very painful to go through.”

“It’s not. There’s qualities in my saliva that’d make the skin numb so you wouldn’t feel it that much, and uh, I’d lick it shut. It’s. There’s science involved.” Grimmjow shifts on the couch, his face now fully red from his hairline and creeping down his neck. “It doesn’t hurt, though.”

He wants to do it; Ulquiorra can tell. It’s not just the stumbling over his words part, but the gentle reassurances, the way he shifts on the couch and refuses to look in Ulquiorra’s direction. Such a thing would be a big step to take for sure but he can tell Grimmjow wants to do this, wants to mark him so that anyone who looks at him will know that Ulquiorra belongs to someone. Funny, how in adopting Grimmjow, he hadn’t really stopped to think about the fact that Grimmjow viewed the bond as going both ways. That soothes him more than a little.

So Ulquiorra clears his throat and nods once. “Okay. When you think you’re ready to do it, then we can do it. Just be gentle with me. My pain tolerance is very low.”

Grimmjow’s head whips toward him frighteningly fast. “Are you serious? You’d let me do that?”

Ulquiorra nods, and he watches Grimmjow’s eyes widen until a slow smile spreads across his face. “I don’t see why not. It means a lot to you and I want you to know that  _ you _ mean a lot to me, so I can give you this. I wouldn’t mind if other hybrids knew that I was yours.”

“Thank you.” Grimmjow clambers off of the couch and Ulquiorra is prepared to have his chair slammed back into the wall from the force of being tackled in it.

Instead, Grimmjow drops down onto his knees and shoves himself between Ulquiorra’s thighs, startling a squeak from his throat as Grimmjow wraps strong arms around his waist. The position puts them at an awkward angle but apparently only he notices because Grimmjow just makes happy noises and nuzzles against his stomach, fingers pressed into the small of Ulquiorra’s back to hold him close. Gently, he sets a hand on top of Grimmjow’s head, rubbing his ears until he mewls and presses closer, a slow purr rumbling up from his chest.

Which makes the position awkward all over again. “I wouldn’t think the floor was a comfortable place to kneel. You should stand before you hurt your poor knees.”

“That’s probably true.” Grimmjow pushes himself up and leans in, and Ulquiorra blinks wildly, not sure what he’s doing until he drags his face along Ulquiorra’s own, through his hair and over his throat. “I’m gonna go spend time with Kira. He’s angsting big time over a lot of shit.”

Ulquiorra frowns at the thought, trying to ignore the way his heart keeps insistently pounding against his ribcage. “Is he okay? I know Rangiku leaving has hurt him quite badly.”

“It’s not just her leaving. Gin’s been distant lately because of that and so Kira’s kind of on his own.” Grimmjow sighs softly and shakes his head, and Ulquiorra bites his lip; he hadn’t even noticed, but Kira is so quiet and keeps to himself so much it would have been difficult to.

“Thank you for taking care of him.” Ulquiorra rolls his chair forward just enough that he can reach Grimmjow’s ears without having to stand up, petting them softly and smiling when Grimmjow’s eyelids flutter. “You’re very good at this. I’m proud of you, kitten.”

Grimmjow tilts his head, nips the inside of Ulquiorra’s wrist before turning around, almost swatting Ulquiorra in the face with his tail. “Not a problem, and thanks. It means a lot coming from you since you’re so good at it. Let me know if you need me for anything, Quiorra.”

As soon as the office door closes behind his hybrid, Ulquiorra slumps in his chair and sighs.

He’s heard of this, of course. It wouldn’t be the first time; the relationship between Aizen and Gin alone is proof that plenty of humans and hybrids fall in love with one another. Rangiku and Hinamori were probably much the same now, and there was no denying the way Kyoraku studied Ukitake when the rabbit was not looking at him. Just, Ulquiorra wasn’t prepared for it.

Part of him feels bad. He knows Grimmjow’s past is dark and he’s afraid of what might be in it, what he might trigger if he acted on the confusing feelings slowly curling between his ribs, taking root in his heart and threatening to blossom despite the winter frost. More than that, he doesn’t want Grimmjow to think he owes anything, that Ulquiorra had any truly selfish ulterior motives when he chose to adopt him. It was done for the right reasons, wanting to give him a home. Okay, maybe a little selfish, because he didn’t want anyone to take Grimmjow from him.

It was never about anything else. It was never  _ supposed _ to be, but now. Well. Maybe he’s imagining it, but hadn’t Grimmjow seemed a little..? He’s probably just projecting.

He needs to get this paperwork filed so that Tesla can come into work tonight. After firing off a quick email to Aizen to reassure him that Tesla will do— Aizen went home as soon as Ulquiorra promised to handle the interview, wanting to get Gin and Nnoitra away from one another— he sits down to work on the important aspects of the job. Filing paperwork, updating information as needed, checking to make sure he won’t miss any birthdays. He doesn’t know Nnoitra’s birthday, but to be fair, neither had Nnoitra. No one seemed to care about it before now.

The thought is a little upsetting. Ulquiorra’s parents loved him and they made sure to make every birthday special, even the ones he has trouble remembering because they were too far back for his child’s mind to recall. But he’s seen photographs. The idea that hybrids just sometimes didn’t know because no one around them cared enough to remember and teach them the day was important made him sad.

Oh well. Maybe they could just choose a random day and set it to that. Nnoitra doesn’t seem like he’d want any kind of celebration, so maybe just a small gift.

By the time Ulquiorra has finished everything he could possibly do and run out of busy work to keep him occupied a while longer, the confusing run of thinking in his head has quieted somewhat. Grimmjow is his hybrid, a cat who deserves a better life than the one he led before Ulquiorra found him sleeping on the doorstep. A single glance at Nnoitra is proof that no matter what life Grimmjow led before now, whether it be his overly rich owners or sleeping on the streets, it was all torture, all pain, all suffering.

Best to let him rest now that he has a chance. Best for Ulquirrora to keep his thoughts to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trips and spills my nnoites agenda all over the floor oh no


	12. Chapter 12

Three days after Tesla’s appointment as their official night shift employee, a storm comes. This is not wholly uncommon these days even when winter is on the way; the rain sleets down against the roof of the apartment and Grimmjow huffs a sigh at the sound of it, pulling his comforter up higher over his body to ward away the coming chill as if he might be able to stop the storm through sheer force of will alone. When it comes to storms, Grimmjow hates them. He spent enough time taking shelter under dumpster lids with static rolling through his fur to ever learn to appreciate the noise or the peace it brings to humans.

The first crack of thunder has him yelping, bolting upright in bed with his ears flattened back on his skull. It startles him more than frightens him and he exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tells himself to calm down and breathe. The lightning ruins the effect immediately and he throws his legs over the side of his bed, head resting in his hands as he tries to breathe.

It’s just a storm.  _ It’s just a storm. _ And he has a home now, a warm bed and a roof over his head, a human who loves him and wants to take care of him. Being afraid of a little thunder—

The second boom has him jumping up, his pulse beating wildly in his throat as he stares around the dark and shadowy room. Just enough of the street lamps outside spill through his window to give the room a faint glow, enough to reveal the rain shadows on his wall. Everything is outside of course and he has no reason to be afraid, and he knows that. Logically, he knows that.

When lightning flashes through the room, he pushes himself up out of bed and crosses the room, pulling the door open and hurrying to Ulquiorra’s bedroom door. Surely Ulquiorra is not going to be upset with him for wanting some comfort in the middle of the night especially when there is a bad storm, but he still debates, staring at the slab of wood in front of him.

His teeth sink into his lower lip and he chews thoughtfully, pressing his palm against Ulquiorra’s door. Just a few knocks, and Ulquiorra will comfort him, hold him through the worst of the storm.

_ And if you wake him up, you can piss him off. _ The thought makes his stomach hurt and he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as he debates with himself. When has Ulquiorra ever truly been angry with him? Even the Orihime thing was more disappointment more than anything else, not true anger; Grimmjow knows Ulquiorra would never harm him, not with words. Not with his hands. Definitely not on purpose. If he wakes him up and tells him the storm is bothering him, Ulquiorra will take care of him until he feels better and falls back asleep.

But what if it does upset him? What if Ulquiorra is angry with him for waking him up?

Before he can bring himself to knock on the door— not sure if he  _ can _ — Ulquiorra’s soft, deep voice startles him. “Grimmjow? What are you doing out of bed this late?”

Grimmjow yelps and jumps back, then drags a hand down his face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, darling.” Ulquiorra stands between him and the living room, looking very snuggly in his oversized pajamas and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “What are you doing up?”

“The, ah. The storm woke me up.” Grimmjow tries not to sound as embarrassed as he feels now that he has Ulquiorra looking at him like this, padding across the floor to him with his head down. “I’m sorry. Wait, what are you doing out of bed at this hour?”

Ulquiorra’s hand is warm on his face and Grimmjow leans into it, tilting his head to nuzzle against Ulquiorra’s slender fingers. “There’s no need to apologize if you had a bad night. We all do from time to time, you know? And the rain woke me, so I got up to make some hot chocolate and read for a little bit while the storm passed. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” Grimmjow nips at his fingers, unable to ignore the little mewl that leaves his lips when Ulquiorra touches him like this, so softly and sweetly. “I was gonna wake you up, I—”

Ulquiorra’s fingers brush over his lips and he shuts his mouth. “You can do that if you need to, even if it’s over something you think is silly. Like a storm scaring you. Come sit down on the couch and I’ll make you some. You want me to read to you to take your mind off of it?”

“Mhm.” Grimmjow licks Ulquiorra’s fingers, but his human only smiles fondly. “Thank you.”

The lamp on the side table is turned on, giving the room a soft golden glow. Grimmjow picks up one of the throws from the back of a chair and wraps himself up in it as he sits down, picking up Ulquiorra’s book in one hand, careful to keep from losing the place Ulquiorra has marked. He knows Ulquiorra likes genre fiction now and this is science fiction, the blurb on the back making Grimmjow cock his head in curiosity before he returns it to its place on the coffee table. From here, he can hear the pleasant sounds of Ulquiorra moving around in the kitchen.

“I should have thought about how the storm might affect you when I saw it on the radar.” Ulquiorra sets his mug down in front of him and it takes self-control not to reach for it; Grimmjow knows he would just burn his tongue right away. “I’m sorry for not thinking of it then.”

Grimmjow shakes his head, patting the spot on the couch next to him. “It’s okay. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Have you been enjoying this book?”

“Oh yes. I think you will, too.” Ulquiorra pats his lap and Grimmjow lies down, pillowing his head on Ulquiorra’s thighs and purring when capable fingers sift through his hair. “Can I ask you a question, Grimmjow? Why didn’t you want to wake me up?”

The question makes his stomach ache just a little and Grimmjow sighs, pressing his face against Ulquiorra’s stomach to try to let some of Ulquiorra’s strength seep into him. Why is it so difficult to be honest with him? “I just thought you might be upset or something.”

“Look at me.” Ulquiorra taps him on the nose and Grimmjow looks up at him, blinking slowly at him and smiling softly when Ulquiorra blinks back. “If you ever need me, you can wake me up. Even over just a storm. I will never be upset with you if you come to me.”

“I just… Okay.” Grimmjow noses into his hand and Ulquiorra laughs softly, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, over the scent glands there as carefully as possible.

When Ulquiorra sighs, though, Grimmjow glances up at him. “Sometimes I wish I could meet the people who hurt you so I could repay them in kind for the damage they’ve done.”

“I hope you don’t ever have to. They’re all twisted fucks.” Grimmjow mouths against Ulquiorra’s palm and chuckles when Ulquiorra raises an eyebrow at him. “What? I’m just being honest. You see me, you see Nnoitra, you gotta be able to put the clues together.”

“Oh, I do. I just wish that I didn’t have to see the pieces come together like this.” Ulquiorra shifts, his hand cupping the back of Grimmjow’s neck. “Come here. I want to hold you now.”

The blunt honesty in his voice takes Grimmjow’s breath away for a moment before he drags himself up from the couch and into Ulquiorra’s lap, careful to balance his body so that he’s not squashing the man beneath him. But Ulquiorra wraps his arms tight around Grimmjow’s waist, pulling him down and against his chest, breathing soft against the skin of Grimmjow’s throat. It strikes him as odd that Ulquiorra is being affectionate with him when usually he’s the one climbing all over his human, but he likes the idea that Ulquiorra wants to touch him, hold him, and hug him as much as he wants to cling to Ulquiorra.

“Are you okay?” he asks, murmuring the words against Ulquiorra’s forehead.

“Yes, kitten. I’m fine. I just feel like holding you is a comfort when I’m confronted with the reality of your past.” Ulquiorra noses his throat and Grimmjow shivers, and he thinks about Ulquiorra’s teeth against his skin and tries not to get too flustered. “You’ve come so far after suffering so much but it still makes my heart hurt to remember that you’ve suffered at all.”

Slowly, Grimmjow leans back and looks down into Ulquiorra’s viridian eyes, then dips his head down and kisses him pointedly on the nose. “I’m okay now. I’ve got you in my life.”

Ulquiorra smiles and then Grimmjow finds himself thrown down on the couch, yelping in surprise before clever hands sneak up his sides and find all of the ticklish spots along his ribs. He laughs and wriggles but can’t quite knock Ulquiorra off of him, slender knees hugging his hips so that Ulquiorra is balanced above him. The strain is… Not bad and Grimmjow mewls up at him, taken at the way Ulquiorra looks above him, eyes glittering as he smiles down at him.

Not for the first time, Grimmjow thinks that Ulquiorra must be the most beautiful human in the world. It’s why his control slips and he drags Ulquiorra down against his chest.

He blames it on how starved he is for affection, the way that Ulquiorra makes him feel and how gorgeous he is, how hard he works to make Grimmjow smile. But he catches himself when their lips are mere centimeters apart, when he can count Ulquiorra’s eyelashes up close.

“Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra hovers above him, hands planted firmly in the cushion on either side of Grimmjow’s head, fingers digging into the fabric. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Um.” Grimmjow’s hands flex on his back and he can feel Ulquiorra’s muscles bunched up there, tense and coiled under his fingers.  _ Oh. _ “Sorry, I just… I’m sorry.”

When he drops his hands, Ulquiorra slowly sits up and moves back off of him, and the absence of his warmth makes Grimmjow feel something cold and hard twist in his gut. “Kitten, I—”

“You don’t. Have to say anything, I know I’m an idiot.” Grimmjow pushes himself up slowly, picks up his mug of hot chocolate, and curls against the opposite end of the couch to keep as much space between them as possible. “I’m so fucking bad at this, I just, I don’t know. I don’t think I know how to be a normal hybrid anymore, I’m just. Fucked up and broken.”

Ulquiorra inhales slowly, the sound of it quivering delicately. “No, Grimmjow. You aren’t… You aren’t broken. You’re not— I just… Do you have romantic feelings for me, kitten?”

“I.” Grimmjow swallows hard and gulps hot chocolate to avoid answering, not sure what to say. Not sure what he feels. Does he? He doesn’t know. Are the warm curls of happiness in his gut because he has feelings for Ulquiorra, or because he just appreciates what’s been done for him? Or has he been dealt such ugliness in life that the first person to offer him true kindness has inspired such a reaction in him? “I don’t know. I can’t tell. My head hurts so fucking much.”

Slowly, Ulquiorra leans across the couch, tucking a strand of hair back out of his face, fingers brushing the shell of Grimmjow’s ear with the motion. “Why did you try to kiss me?”

The question makes his stomach churn and he swallows the rest of his hot chocolate before he can get too sick to want it, not wanting Ulquiorra’s hard work to go to waste. “You were so pretty. You were smiling and you were so pretty and I was so happy, and I just…”

“You just wanted to kiss me.” Ulquiorra’s hand rests on his shoulder and Grimmjow can almost  _ almost _ feel Ulquiorra’s fingers against the side of his neck. “And then you stopped yourself.”

“I caught myself,” Grimmjow agrees. “And I just, I… I don’t want to ruin this. Us. You  make me so happy and I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want and lose having this home with you, and I feel so bad for even trying. I’m sorry, Quiorra, you didn’t deserve that.”

Ulquiorra squeezes his shoulder. “Sit your mug down on the table, Grimmjow.”

Grimmjow acquiesces and knots his fingers in the blanket twisted around his waist. “I’m sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Ulquiorra shifts closer to him and Grimmjow squeezes his eyes shut, not sure he can handle Ulquiorra being close to him right now when he feels so small and fragile. “I didn’t suspect that you had feelings for me.”

He swallows hard around the knot in his throat. “I don’t… I’m afraid. What if I don’t actually feel this way and it’s just because you’re nice to me, and no one else ever has been?”

“Aizen-san has been kind to you,” Ulquiorra argues, but Grimmjow knows it’s not quite as true, that Ulquiorra has been the one here for him since day one. “Are you afraid of my reaction or that you might discover your feelings aren’t true after you’ve already told me about them?”

Helpless, Grimmjow shrugs his shoulders. “Both? I don’t know. I’m so confused.”

“It’s okay to not be sure, kitten.” Ulquiorra presses against his side and Grimmjow shivers at the pressure of his body. “Please look at me. Don’t hide. I would never hurt you.”

Through real effort of his own, Grimmjow turns his head to meet Ulquiorra’s eyes and finds himself biting down hard on his tongue as he waits for his human to speak. What he isn’t expecting are Ulquiorra’s hands gently cradling his face with the lack of space between them, his breath sticking tight in his throat as he struggles to look at Ulquiorra’s green eyes and his full, soft lips at the same time. Nothing has ever been so difficult.

“It’s okay not to know what you want right away,” Ulquiorra tells him, and Grimmjow whines, his ears twitching back to the top of his scalp. “You can be confused. You can need time to figure things out. But I would never,  _ never _ hold it against you.”

“What if I’m wrong?” Grimmjow asks him. “I don’t want… I don’t want to hurt you.”

But Ulquiorra quickly shakes his head, thumb brushing over Grimmjow’s lower lip tenderly. “You won’t hurt me. You can’t. Even if you’re wrong, what I care about is your happiness. If we’re meant to only be companions, I can live with that. If it’s meant to be more, I want to explore it.”

It takes Grimmjow a moment to process the end of Ulquiorra’s words, his ears perking up high at the implication. “Wait… Do you have feelings for me?”

“I believe so. It’s difficult to sit down and think through things because I can’t divorce that from the fact I just want to take care of you, but.” Ulquiorra’s smile is sweet and serene. “But you are my good, sweet kitten and if you want a kiss, Grimmjow, then you can have one.”

The sweetness of his voice sends a desperate shiver down Grimmjow’s spine and he finds himself turning toward Ulquiorra, fingers curling around Ulquiorra’s wrists as he leans closer to breach the distance between them. It’s a slow and careful thing, and Grimmjow struggles to breathe, forcing himself to inhale at least once before his eyelids flutter shut in anticipation, his lips brushing carefully against Ulquiorra’s own before he finally kisses him.

It sends a bolt of warmth through his entire body, his stomach uncurling and fluttering as he tentatively moves his lips against Ulquiorra’s. They’re impossibly soft and warm against his own and Ulquiorra kisses him softly and sweetly, one hand sliding around to the back of his neck and holding him in place while Ulquiorra deepens the kiss. Their lips part and move against one another more fervently, Grimmjow mewling softly into the kiss. When Ulquiorra’s tongue traces the edge of his lip, he leans back for a breath, his face hot and his skin tight.

“Are you okay?” Ulquiorra asks him, and Grimmjow nods, licking the taste of Ulquiorra’s mouth off of his lips. He’s  _ sweet, _ a hint of chocolate and his own human taste. “Was that too much?”

Grimmjow shakes his head. “No, no, it was great. I just needed to breathe.”

Ulquiorra hums softly and kisses him on the nose, and Grimmjow mewls softly at him, his tail lazily swaying through the air behind him. “Take a breath so I can kiss you again.”

As soon as Grimmjow inhales, Ulquiorra is there to kiss him again, lips and tongue coaxing his mouth open. Ulquiorra’s tongue presses against his own, almost massaging it as he moves their lips together, his hands so gentle in Grimmjow’s hair, on his face, on his neck. Grimmjow whines and tangles his fingers in Ulquiorra’s hair, flushed and too too hot but not willing to break the kiss to do anything about it. Instead, he just pulls Ulquiorra closer, wraps himself around him.

He doesn’t even realize they’ve moved back into their original position, Ulquiorra’s weight warm and reassuring on top of him, his hands flexing on Ulquiorra’s back as he tries to close the nonexistent distance between them. When he figures out how to breathe through his nose with Ulquiorra’s tongue against his teeth, he decides not to break away until he has to, lapping hungrily into Ulquiorra’s mouth as he presses up into the human above him.

It’s Ulquiorra who leans away from him, breathing heavily as he looks down at Grimmjow through heavily-lidded eyes. “How are you feeling about all of this?”

“Good. It’s good.” Grimmjow pants softly before leaning in, nudging Ulquiorra’s lips with his own, wanting another kiss. He wants to kiss him until he passes out. “It feels so good with you.”

Ulquiorra pecks him on the lips and chuckles when Grimmjow whines. “It’ll always feel good when it’s with me because I want to take care of you. No one would ever want that more.”

“Wanna take care of you, too,” Grimmjow insists, nosing his neck.

“Such a sweet kitten.” Ulquiorra leans back and kisses him again, and Grimmjow shuts up.

It’s hard to think about anything other than Ulquiorra’s lips on his own, Ulquiorra’s hands on his skin, his ears, his hair. He feels cherished in a way he never has before, like Ulquiorra is taking as much care as possible in touching him even as he devours Grimmjow’s mouth with a skill that leaves Grimmjow melting beneath him. When he leans back to look down at him, Grimmjow realizes the rain has stopped and the night is quiet other than their labored breathing.

“Stopped raining,” he murmurs, and Ulquiorra smiles softly down at him.

“Were you going to ask me if you could share my bed tonight?” Ulquiorra asks, and Grimmjow wonders if his face gets as hot as it feels. “The thunder scared you, so you wanted me.”

“You make me feel safe,” Grimmjow tells him, and Ulquiorra’s gaze softens.

“Good. I want you to feel safe with me always.” Ulquiorra sits up, his hands catching Grimmjow by the wrists and drawing him up into a sitting position. One of those hands rises to Grimmjow’s ear, rubbing the base down close to his scalp until Grimmjow’s eyelids grow heavy and he purrs, leaning hard into the touch. “Come to bed with me. I want to hold you all through the night.”

“Probably good that you don’t have work tomorrow,” Grimmjow admits shyly. “I kept you up.”

Of course, Ulquiorra only shakes his head, bringing Grimmjow’s knuckles to his lips to kiss them. “Don’t. I don’t mind at all. I’d rather get a little less sleep than have you upset and alone in your room. If you ever need me, come get me immediately.”

He pulls Grimmjow to his feet before he can argue, shutting off the lamp before leading him down the hallway to his bedroom. The bedspread is already turned back and Grimmjow dives onto the mattress without a second thought, Ulquiorra close behind him, tickling him until he rolls over on top of his human to return the favor, delighted when Ulquiorra squirms and laughs beneath him. When both of them are breathless, Ulquiorra pulls him down and kisses him, wetter and messier than before but just as good, Grimmjow keening against his lips.

“You are such a cute kitten,” Ulquiorra tells him, rolling them both over so they’re on their sides, legs tangled together. “My cute kitten. All mine and no one else’s.”

“You’re starting to sound like I smell on you,” Grimmjow quips, nuzzling his cheek.

“Nothing wrong with that, is there?” Ulquiorra nips at his lower lip and Grimmjow shivers at the touch of his teeth, trying to chase the sensation. “You’ve talked about leaving a permanent mark on my skin so that every hybrid who looks at me is going to know that I belong to someone, so I highly doubt that you mind if I talk about how much you belong to me.”

Grinning, Grimmjow shakes his head. “I like it. I like being all yours.”

“Good. I’ll keep saying it, then.” Ulquiorra kisses him once more and it takes so much effort not to turn it into more, not to roll Ulquiorra over on top of him once more. It’s late, and they both need to sleep even if Ulquiorra has the day off tomorrow. They can kiss more when they wake up. “Come here, Grimmjow. Get as close as you want. I’ll keep you safe and warm.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Grimmjow wraps himself around Ulquiorra, curling tight around him as he presses his face against Ulquiorra’s own. Being this close to him feels nothing less than amazing, surrounded by his scent and wrapped in his arms, his lips tingling from the press of Ulquiorra’s lips against his own. He wants more. He can’t possibly get enough.

Ulquiorra kisses him again and again, soft brushes of lips that are more of a tease than a satisfaction, but eventually Grimmjow can’t keep up anymore, sleep curling slow and warm around him. Of course, Ulquiorra notices. He strokes Grimmjow’s ears and murmurs to him, and Grimmjow gives into his touch, his voice, the fatigue weighing down on him.

No one has ever been so kind to him. No one has ever treated him with such care and respect, such tenderness until he feels like the thought of it alone could bring him to tears. No one has ever cared so much about him or his happiness, not until Ulquiorra. Maybe this is not what humans consider love to be, but it feels like it to Grimmjow. It makes his chest feel warm and all he wants to do is keep Ulquiorra safe, protect him with what limited means he has. And the fact Ulquiorra wants to do the same to him makes his heart swell against his ribcage.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up, kitten.” Ulquiorra kisses him on the cheek, on the nose, on the forehead and finally on the lips, and Grimmjow can only smile sleepily at him, barely able to keep his eyes open enough to see him. “And I’ll make you something good for breakfast and I’ll kiss you all day if you want me to. Sweet dreams, kitten. I love you.”

_ I love you, too _ , Grimmjow thinks just before sleep finally claims him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the slow burn finally gets us all somewhere!
> 
> if you have a dreamwidth account, hit me up! i am [here](https://isamikodakas.dreamwidth.org/) now that tumblr is doing Its Thing.


	13. Chapter 13

When Ulquiorra wakes up at half past noon, Grimmjow’s warm and heavy weight has him pinned down to the mattress beneath him. His nose is nestled into the hollow of Ulquiorra’s throat so that each small snuffling noise he makes in his sleep warms and tickles Ulquiorra’s bare skin, his long limbs wrapped around Ulquiorra like he never wants to let him go. It takes a titan effort to wrestle an arm free so he can card his fingers through Grimmjow’s soft blue hair, the strands silky between his fingers. When he brushes a single finger along the back of one pointed ear, it twitches and Grimmjow mewls sleepily.

Last night was more exhilarating than it had any right to be. His heart raced against his ribs so desperately with every single word that left Grimmjow’s lips, the possibility of being more than they were, more than Ulquiorra imagined possible when he signed the adoption forms and made Grimmjow his own. Bringing him home, living alongside him, being there to comfort his fears away and reassure him that he is well-loved… Nothing has ever been so fulfilling, and Ulquiorra has spent most of his life taking care of other hybrids.

He rubs Grimmjow’s ears until a soft, sleepy purr rumbles in his hybrid’s chest, his stomach a warm pool of happiness at the sound. Nothing is better than Grimmjow happy and content, curled up on top of him, breathing against Ulquiorra’s skin.

And then he notices a slight issue in the position.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut as he realizes that this morning, he’s dealing with the uncomfortable sensation of an erection no doubt pressing up into Grimmjow’s stomach with the position the two of them are in. “ _ Please _ not this morning.”

The thought of Grimmjow waking up to discover this is a disconcerting one and Ulquiorra tries to shift out from underneath him in order to slip off to the bathroom so he can deal with this. Usually, he can think them away by focusing on something less than arousing, but such a thing is difficult when a beautiful, purring, contented cat is lying on top of him and nuzzling into his throat unconsciously. If he can’t get out from under Grimmjow before he wakes up, then this afternoon is going to be a very awkward one.

Grimmjow is built, is the problem. Thick with muscle, powerful and strong even if he likes to curl himself up tight and small in Ulquiorra’s arms or at his side. Those biceps are not for display purposes only, the muscles standing against his skin as he hugs Ulquiorra tighter to his chest. His tail swishes lazily beneath the blanket and the sight makes Ulquiorra smile despite his troublesome predicament.

If he wiggles around too much, Grimmjow will wake up and notice for sure. If he just lies here, Grimmjow will wake up and notice anyway. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place with no foreseeable easy solution to his plight in sight.

It doesn’t help he woke up five minutes ago and his brain is still foggy with sleep.

“Darling,” he murmurs, running his fingertip along the edge of Grimmjow’s ear, “can you let me up so I can go to the bathroom? Please, sweet kitten?”

Grimmjow’s ear twitches and Ulquiorra tries to shift his hips when the mountain of muscle on top of him moves, long pale blue lashes parting just a centimeter to reveal sleep-bleary eyes just a few shades deeper. “Don’t wanna. You’re warm. Stay.”

“I need to pee,” Ulquiorra tells him, his heart wobbling when Grimmjow whines and scrubs his cheek into Ulquiorra’s pajama shirt. “C’mon, you can let me up for just a minute.”

“Don’t  _ wanna _ .” Grimmjow is petulant, pouting his very full lips as he noses along the line of Ulquiorra’s throat and up to his jaw, fingers pressing into his spine.

The movement threatens to press their bodies tighter together and Ulquiorra has to struggle to prevent this, not wanting Grimmjow to realize he’s hard. Not sure Grimmjow will want to deal with that, or know how to deal with it given the fact he was just barely able to confess his feelings last night even with Ulquiorra’s reassurances.

It occurs to him that Grimmjow might feel  _ obligated _ to help him out and the thought makes him ill enough to put up a real fight, trying to weasel his way out of Grimmjow’s arms. “You have to let me up. I need to shower and make something to eat.”

“Not hungry,” Grimmjow insists even though Ulquiorra knows that is a lie, has seen just how much Grimmjow eats on a regular basis. “Just stay in bed where it’s warm.”

He tries to wedge his leg over Ulquiorra’s thighs but quick thinking has Ulquiorra swinging his legs out of the way, half-free of Grimmjow’s embrace. “I know you’re hungry, my love. Even if you don’t want to admit it. You can snuggle in bed while I cook for you.”

“But I want you in the bed.” Grimmjow hauls him back onto the mattress and Ulquiorra swears softly, torn between being frustrated and impressed.

“But I need to go to the bathroom.” He plays dirty, running his hand down the side of Grimmjow’s face before he kisses him, lips and tongue teasing the soft plush pillows of his lips until Grimmjow mewls softly into his mouth. “Be good and let me up, Grimmjow.”

This time, the pout is softer. “More kisses and I’ll let you go. This time.”

“Such a good kitten.” Ulquiorra whispers between kisses, taking in the way Grimmjow’s lashes flutter, his mouth slack against Ulquiorra’s own from fatigue and sheer pleasure. “My good, sweet, pretty kitten. So strong. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

Grimmjow sniffs and bumps their foreheads together. “Okay,  _ okay. _ Sap. Go pee. And make pancakes please? I want pancakes today.”

“Of course.” Ulquiorra gives him one last kiss as a reward and finally slides off of the bed, yanking at the front of his pajama pants to hide his erection the best he can.

Embarrassingly, it might have been worsened by Grimmjow’s play wrestling.

It occurs to him as he closes the door that Grimmjow will be able to hear him through the wall if he listens so he sighs, cuts his losses, and turns on the shower. He shucks his pajamas, drops them on the ground, and climbs in while the water is still warming up, gritting his teeth against the chill. His cock is still half-hard and showing no signs of letting up, which means he has to deal with this on his own. Hopefully the water will be enough to keep Grimmjow from hearing him jerking off in here.

Some hybrids end up romantically and sexually involved with their owners. Ulquiorra is not  _ stupid; _ he knows it happens. Has walked in on Gin sitting in Aizen’s lap enough times to know exactly what those two get up together. But the fact is, Grimmjow only just opened up to him. He doesn’t want Grimmjow to think he  _ owes _ him anything.

That would be bad. He could have had owners that would have convinced him to.

Sighing, Ulquiorra shoves his head under the water, letting it wet his hair and weigh it down as he stares at his feet, wondering how it came to this. Wondering if he’s in the right for letting Grimmjow kiss him, urging him to confess to him. Was it the right thing to do? Or was he walking a path that might lead to traumatizing his hybrid once and for all? He doesn’t know. He has no idea, and he doesn’t want to think about it if he can avoid it.

He can stand here all day and question Grimmjow’s decisions and whether or not he should be allowed to make them, or if he has the capability of making them. Or he can trust in that brave cat who believed he meant it when he said he wanted this too.

None of his introspection is doing anything about his erection, so Ulquiorra thoroughly wets one of his hands in the water, leans against the wall, and shifts to take care of it.

He tries not to think about anything, which is easier said than done. It’s hard  _ not _ to think about the man in his bed, about the muscled plane of Grimmjow’s chest and the way he curls himself around Ulquiorra like he’s trying to swallow him up with his own body. The way Grimmjow intently scents him, wanting everyone to know that Ulquiorra belongs to him and no one else. That kind of possession shouldn’t turn him on more than it already does, but Ulquiorra groans when his cock quickly hardens fully in his own slippery fist.

If Grimmjow heard that, he won’t be able to pretend this isn’t what he’s doing.

Ulquiorra bites down on his lower lip as he strokes himself, trying not to let his thoughts trace down that path but not much being able to stop them. It’s hard not to think about Grimmjow like this, hard not to think about those beautiful blue eyes and that lush mouth and the way Grimmjow is so affectionate, so open and desperate to touch.

When he comes, he bites down hard on the webbing between his thumb and finger to quiet himself, leaning heavily against the wall to avoid slipping. It takes him a few minutes to recover, panting softly under the spray of water, the hot splash of come on his fingers hotter than the water. Only after he’s had enough time to breathe does he lean away from the wall and actually get around to washing himself.

The problem is that he has no clothes and putting his pajamas back on seems… Stupid. So Ulquiorra tosses them in the hamper, wraps his towel around his waist, and walks back into the bedroom to find Grimmjow taking up the entirety of the bed on his own.

“Grimmjow,” he says, watching one eye crack open slowly, Grimmjow’s lips pressing into a line that clearly says how little he enjoys being disturbed in the haven of the bed. “I need you to give me a moment alone in the bedroom if you don’t mind.”

“Oh?” Grimmjow blinks both eyes open, and the way his gaze darts up and down Ulquiorra’s body makes goosebumps rise along his arms. “Why? It’s just skin, isn’t it?”

The casual tone of his voice makes Ulquiorra blink a handful of times and he tries again. “That’s true, I suppose, but privacy is nice, isn’t it? I just need to get dressed.”

“Hmm.” Grimmjow’s eyes flutter shut once more and he tucks his face into the pillow. “Well, I don’t wanna get up yet. I just won’t look. You can trust me, right?”

It isn’t trust that’s the issue, it’s that Ulquiorra has no real desire to be naked in front of the hybrid he was just fantasizing about just a moment ago. “I can. All right, as you wish. Are you going to get up when I finally make you something to eat?”

He sees a flash of a smile in the corner of Grimmjow’s mouth. “Maybe so.”

Well then. Ulquiorra gathers his clothing and debates going back to the bathroom to change not to risk it, but. But he told Grimmjow he trusted him, so instead he lets the towel fall to the ground and tries not to glance toward the bed as he gets ready for the day. He’ll take them out later to show Grimmjow around the city more if the rain has let up enough. The last thing he wants to do is end up with Grimmjow sick on him.

He picks the towel up off the floor and leaves Grimmjow to sleep, picking his phone up off of the nightstand to check his messages. Tesla always sends him one right after work so he knows what’s been going on at the shelter in his absence and to let him know if any new hybrids have checked in during the night, or if there have been any incidents.

A picture is attached with a message assuring him everything has been just fine. The image has him pausing on his way to the kitchen. Familiar carpeting tells him this is the living room and it takes him a moment to process Nnoitra’s nest of bedding, but there is no mistaking the swathe of long black hair spread across what must be Tesla’s lap. In the corner, a hairbrush is barely in sight. Nnoitra had asked Tesla to brush his hair.

One of his hands is visible resting in Nnoitra’s hair while the other is out of sight, holding up the phone. At least that means he got to keep both of his hands.

Ulquiorra docks his phone in his speaker system and keeps the music on low as he makes pancakes for Grimmjow, adding chocolate chips on a whim when he remembers just how much Grimmjow likes pastry. There’s whipped cream in the refrigerator and various kinds of berries in the vegetable drawer because  _ maybe _ he went a little overboard in grocery shopping to make sure Grimmjow could have anything he wanted.

When the music cuts off to make way for his ringtone, the pancakes have just been finished. He shuts off the stove, sets the pan in the sink, and answers the call without glancing at the screen. He needs to get cream, berries, make coffee and pour orange juice because Grimmjow likes both with breakfast, and—

_ “Hello, dear!” _ The sound of his aunt’s voice has him skidding to a stop with his hand curled around the handle on the refrigerator door.  _ “I hope I’m not calling while you’re at work. I should have asked first. You’re not busy, are you?” _

“Um, no.” Ulquiorra props his phone on his shoulder as he opens the door, making two trips between the table and the fridge to get everything he needs. He pops the lids on the containers of berries and sets a spoon on top of the whipped cream container. “I’m off today, actually. How have you been? Sorry for not calling. I’ve been… Busy.”

Soft laughter on the other end of the line.  _ “No worries, Ulquiorra. I know how much your shelter keeps you busy. It’s nice to know you have some time to yourself, though.” _

Time to himself. Well, it’s certainly something  _ like _ that. “It’s not so bad, the work, you know. I like being able to help the hybrids out. It means a lot to me.”

_ “I’m glad for that. I was calling because I’ll be in the city today with a client, and I thought I might come visit you before that meeting.” _ Her voice is soft, hopeful, not at all a tone that would force him to say yes if he didn’t want to see her.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” It isn’t like he has  _ plans. _ “The weather’s been pretty bad.”

A soft hum.  _ “I can handle driving on wet roads just fine. In about an hour then?” _   


“That sounds good.” A soft noise behind him has him turning his head to see Grimmjow striding into the kitchen— sans shirt. Oh, fuck, Grimmjow. She doesn’t know about him. “Actually, there’s someone I want you to meet when you get here.”

The sound of his voice has Grimmjow’s ears pricking up, blue eyes surveying him before his gaze lands on the phone and he nods, content he understands. As Ulquiorra watches, Grimmjow walks over to the coffee pot and starts it for him. Good kitten.

_ “Oh? A partner?” _ The tone of his aunt’s voice has Ulquiorra rolling his eyes.  _ “It’s about time, you know. You’ve always been so handsome, and I know you’re shy, but—” _

“It’s not exactly like that, but it’s something like that,” Ulquiorra corrects.

He hears that quiet curiosity before she laughs.  _ “I’ll let you show me so I understand, then. I’ll text you when I’m on the way so you can be prepared.” _

“I’m going to be…” Ulquiorra’s voice trails off when Grimmjow chooses this moment to stretch, long arms up and over his head, every line in his body drawing taut, the muscles in his back flexing. “Ngh. Um, I have to go. I’m getting ready to sit down and eat.”

More laughter.  _ “Well, don’t let me interrupt. I’ll see you when I get there.” _

As soon as the phone line cuts off, Ulquiorra blurts out, “My aunt’s coming.”

Grimmjow pauses in the middle of pouring himself a glass of juice, his ear giving a faint twitch before he turns to look at Ulquiorra properly. “Okay? I don’t mind your family being here. You know, speaking of, you’ve never told me anything about your parents—”

“They died.” Ulquiorra cuts him off and Grimmjow blinks at him a few times before his ears droop at the corners. “No, don’t, it’s fine. I’ve made my peace with it. My aunt checks up on me somewhat often to make sure I’m still holding up okay, that’s all.”

“That’s good, then.” Grimmjow leaves his juice on the counter and pads forward, his shoulders hunched a little as if he’s trying to make himself small. “Can I hug you?”

Ulquiorra blinks at him. “I’m really okay,” he says softly, “but if you want to—”

This time, Grimmjow cuts him off. His arms are strong as they circle Ulquiorra’s waist and he nuzzles against the side of his neck as he does— And then he picks Ulquiorra up off of the ground and holds him against his chest like he weighs nothing, which he probably does to someone like Grimmjow. Still, it’s disconcerting and he makes a small huffing noise at the height difference, letting Grimmjow cuddle him as he pleases. He really is fine, but Grimmjow seems worried about him so he closes his eyes and lets it be, humming softly when Grimmjow nuzzles his neck again. No doubt scenting him, which probably calms Grimmjow somewhat even if it just feels like energetic cuddling to Ulquiorra.

When Grimmjow sets him down on his feet, his hybrid certainly  _ looks _ happier now. “Thank you. Also, breakfast smells amazing. Thank you for making it for me.”

“Of course.” Ulquiorra pets down the side of his face just to listen to Grimmjow purr, grinning when Grimmjow nuzzles into his palm and nips at his fingers. “You’re going to have to put on a shirt when she comes over. I mean… You don’t  _ have _ to, but.”

Grimmjow’s eyes glitter down at him. “You want me to make a good impression on her.”

“Well. Yes. I want her to think only good things of you.” Ulquiorra stretches his hand up further to tickle Grimmjow’s ears, grinning when he squirms and heaves. “Sit down and eat for now, kitten. We’ll worry about getting you properly dressed later.”

He makes sure Grimmjow is sitting at the table with juice and coffee and pancakes before he walks through the apartment to make sure the space is picked up and clean enough for visitors. There’s still a loose nest of blankets on the couch, so he takes a minute to fold them up and drape them over the back of the couch and chairs before joining Grimmjow at the table. The blue fluff of his tail curls on top of Ulquiorra’s thigh, a companionable touch and one that sends a bolt of warmth through his entire body.

“Oh, look at this.” Ulquiorra picks up his cell phone and opens the photo Tesla sent him, sliding it across the table for Grimmjow’s inspection.

The hybrid picks his phone up, examining the screen for a minute before he clicks his tongue. “Tesla must be warm if Nnoitra’s letting him get this close.”

“Good to know.” Ulquiorra finishes his pancakes, sliding the rest of them onto Grimmjow’s plate before the cat can argue with him. “Can I get you anything?”

“More juice would be nice.” Grimmjow swishes his tail. “And a kiss, if you don’t mind.”

Ulquiorra pauses, then leans down to kiss him. Whipped cream and berries and butter, a devastating combination that does nothing for Ulquiorra’s health. His knees are quivering just slightly when he gets Grimmjow more juice, but he puts his phone back on the speakers and tries to ignore it while he starts on washing up the breakfast dishes.

Grimmjow brings him his plate when he’s done with it and when he turns around, the table is clean; Grimmjow must have put the leftover berries and whipped cream up for him. Before he can question this, Grimmjow presses against his back and purrs, rumbling warm and soothing against him. He’s  _ happy _ and that makes Ulquiorra happier than anything else ever could, feeling Grimmjow close and listening to how happy he is.

“Are you going to tell your aunt I kissed you?” Grimmjow asks him, and before Ulquiorra can properly answer, a kittenish lick is delivered to the side of his neck. “Or is that going to be our little secret? Well. The other hybrids will be able to figure it out.”

“You think so? And I had no plans to tell her.” Ulquiorra glances back over his shoulder, trying to gauge Grimmjow’s reaction to that. “Unless you wanted me to tell her.”

Quickly, Grimmjow shakes his head. “Nah. Maybe later. I want it just between us right now. Like I said, the others might pick up on it, but that’s fine.”

“How are the others going to?” Ulquiorra asks him. “I wasn’t aware there would be a significant change that only they could pick up on.”

“It’s a scent thing. Humans can’t tell the difference. You can’t even tell what I smell like on you the way other hybrids can.” Grimmjow leans down, drags his nose along Ulquiorra’s throat; he can feel Grimmjow’s teeth against his skin, pressed into a smile. “But they can. It’s a little sharper and a little more to the point. You’re  _ mine. _ ”

“Oh.” Ulquiorra wavers for just a moment, then turns back to the sink. “I understand.”

He’s frozen in place as Grimmjow pulls down the shoulder of his shirt, mouthing against his skin, teeth pricking here and there before he  _ licks. _ It’s just scenting, perfectly harmless and not nearly as sexual as so many people believe it to be, but Ulquiorra shivers and has to take deep breaths to remain calm just the same. The slightly rough surface of Grimmjow’s tongue feels strange against his skin, not unpleasant but  _ strange _ and new enough that it leaves him a little weak in all of his joints. When Grimmjow is satisfied with his point, he puts Ulquiorra’s shirt back in place, nuzzles the back of his head, and walks out of the kitchen. Relieved, Ulquiorra sags against the counter.

_ What the hell was that all about? _ His hand wanders to his shoulder, fingers pressing into the skin through his shirt as he stares at the running water of the sink. He should have thought about Grimmjow becoming more territorial after last night, but this… Is a little more than he would have expected if he really thought about it.

Part of him is terribly flattered and another part of him wonders how the other hybrids are going to react when he comes in smelling  _ this much _ like Grimmjow.

That’s for tomorrow. He needs to prepare for his aunt’s visit, get Grimmjow into a shirt to at least convey some sense of general decency— Though if he’s being honest, he just doesn’t want her to think he adopted Grimmjow solely for the purpose of having sex with him, and it’s going to look a whole lot like that if Grimmjow is lounging on him topless.

A kiss and an almost-love confession shouldn’t have caused this much of a change in his life, but maybe he should have been more prepared for it.

He turns off the sink, loads the dishwasher, and gets to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look the rating changed. thinking emoji.


	14. Chapter 14

The meeting with Ulquiorra’s aunt goes better than expected. She looks nothing like him, her personality is warm and bubbly, and after she processes that Grimmjow is a hybrid, she spends most of her visit crooning and stroking his ears, telling him what a cute kitty he is and cooing every time he cuddles up to Ulquiorra. They send her on her way about two hours later, and she kisses Ulquiorra at least seven times on the cheeks on her way out of the door. Fortunate, given the phone call from Aizen comes about fifteen minutes later.

Though Grimmjow cannot hear the exact words Aizen is speaking with Ulquiorra’s ear muffling the speaker, he can pick up the notes of anxiety and concern in his voice.

“What is it, Aizen-san?” Ulquiorra asks, shouldering the phone as he carries the tray of snacks he’d brought into the living room back into the kitchen, Grimmjow following behind him with three mugs in hand and the saucers they sat on in the other. “Wait, slow down. You’re speaking so quickly I can’t keep up. What was that?”

Grimmjow pauses, nosing along the side of Ulquiorra’s neck, smiling when Ulquiorra jumps and shivers at the touch. This close, he can also hear Aizen’s voice.  _ “— can’t leave the shelter with no one here to watch it, and you know Gin isn’t allowed to count for that.” _

“I know that. I remember that rule.” Ulquiorra sounds unhappy about it, Grimmjow notes. “Do you want me to come hold down the fort, or do you want me to go get them?”

“Them?” Grimmjow asks, and Ulquiorra brings a single finger to his lips.

_ “It’s up to you, I can do either depending on what you want.” _ Aizen sighs, and Grimmjow can hear the fatigue in his voice and wonders how things have been with Gin lately, if he should make more of an effort to be friendly toward Gin when he sees him next time.  _ “I’ll have to leave Gin here with you if you come, though. I’d have asked Tesla, but he just got off hours ago and I’m sure he’s probably gone to bed by this point.” _

Ulquiorra hums softly. “No, no, it’s fine. We’ll make the trip so you don’t have to. Just start preparations for us so we’ll be able to get them in as quickly as possible. Where are they?”

_ “The police station, though not the one we went to in order to pick up Nnoitra.” _ A faint hiss on the other side of the line maks Grimmjow smile.  _ “Stop that, I’m not talking  _ about _ you, just using you as a reference for location. It’s the station on the other side of town.” _

The other side of town? Grimmjow frowns. “That’s not far from the high class houses.”

His words have Ulquiorra’s back tensing, deep green eyes meeting Grimmjow’s own as he tells Aizen to wait a moment. “What are you trying to say, Grimmjow?”

“If he’s calling you about hybrids,” Grimmjow says slowly, “they would’ve had rich owners.”

“Shit. Did you hear that?” Ulquiorra says into the phone, continuing before Aizen has a chance to answer him. “We’re going to get out there as quickly as we can, but you and I both know what that means. Get rooms ready, get paperwork ready. I don’t want to have to fumble for anything by the time I walk the two of them through the door.”

_ “Of course, Ulquiorra. Be careful. Make sure you take all the necessary precautions,” _ Aizen says, and Grimmjow worries his lower lip between his teeth, far too concerned.

They exchange a few more words while Grimmjow helps Ulquiorra set the dishes in the sink and pack the snacks away. When Ulquiorra turns to look up at him, though, his expression is grave. “Tell me what I’m about to talk into, Grimmjow. I know you know.”

“Rich owners are the same kinds of people who do all those illegal modifications for aesthetic or safety reasons,” Grimmjow says slowly, and he sees the way Ulquiorra closes his eyes, the way his lips press into a thin line as he leans back against the counter. “The same kind who’d remove a cobra’s venom sacs while he was still a child. They can afford to do things like that because those who are willing to do it charge quite a lot of money.”

Disgust flashes across Ulquiorra’s face. “Right. So. What would they do to two cats?”

_ Cats. _ Grimmjow’s stomach drops. “Cat hybrids carry the same base genetics that a lot of normal cats do, where hair color and eye color can be passed down generations. You could have two redheaded parents turn up a blue-haired child, for instance. So breeding… Is the usual. So cats are passed around a lot, and their owners can charge for that.”

“All right.” Ulquiorra scrubs a hand over his face. “We’re picking up two cat hybrids who visually appear to be brothers from the police station. Apparently, they escaped their owners and made it that far, and the signs of abuse are too obvious for the police not to have realized what was going on. We were called to come pick them up.”

_ The signs of abuse. _ Grimmjow sets his jaw. “Why am I not surprised to hear that?”

“I’m sorry.” Ulquiorra steps right up to him, stretches up a hand to touch his cheek, and Grimmjow kisses his fingers. “I know this is going to be hard for you to see this, but if you want to stay home, you can. I won’t take you out there with me if you don’t want to go.”

“I do. I should have gone with you to pick up Nnoitra because I could have helped. I can help now.” Grimmjow is sure of that; he remembers a pair of brothers, remembers being shopped around with them, and wonders if this is the same set. Probably so, and it’s them, then he wants to be there to help them. “It’ll be good to have someone to sit with them.”

Though he doesn’t look wholly convinced, Ulquiorra nods. “All right. Let’s get ready.”

The drive to the station is a long one, so Grimmjow leans his head against the window and, after a few minutes has passed, heaves a sigh. “I want to tell you some about my past.”

“I won’t stop you.” Ulquiorra’s hand gropes for his, their fingers twining together. “I’m privileged that you trust me with the information. I won’t use it against you.”

“Yeah, I know that.” He does; Ulquiorra has been nothing but good to him the entire time that Grimmjow has known him, which is something for a human. “I was shopped around for breeding, and that was… Normal. Not pleasant, but normal. The last. The straw that broke the camel’s back was that one of my owners crossed a very serious line. Decided that he wanted a piece of the action whether I agreed with him or not.”

Ulquiorra hits the brakes a little too hard at the red light. “You. I. Grimmjow, I’m… I’m so  _ sorry, _ I had no idea. Is that why you’ve been so skittish around me?”

“It’s part of it,” Grimmjow admits. “I got outta there before anything could happen, but it’s still, it’s with me, you know? I can’t just let it go because I’m still processing that it even happened. That all of it happened. It was a fucking awful life.”

Slender fingers squeeze his tighter. “I can’t imagine. I couldn’t even begin to. All I can do is tell you that I want to do what’s best for you and take care of you now.”

“I know that. I’m telling you all this because I remember a pair of brothers from my time being trafficked around. If it’s them… Then that’s why I want to go. And if it’s them, then I know a lot of what they’ve gone through because I’ve dealt with it myself, and my presence is gonna be soothing to them.” Admitting this at all makes his throat tighter, makes it hard for Grimmjow to want to look Ulquiorra in the eyes now that he knows even if his voice is not turning up any signs of disgust.

When Ulquiorra exhales softly, Grimmjow chances looking at him, and he can see the war of emotions in Ulquiorra’s eyes, the twitch at the corner of his mouth. “My brave kitten. You’d face the trauma of your own past in such a way to help someone else.”

“It’s what I want to do,” Grimmjow confirms. “It might not be them, but I have this feeling that it is them. The same way I thought it was Nnoitra. And I want to help the hybrids I saw suffer. I’d help anyone, but there’s a connection there now.”

Ulquiorra’s gaze is soft when it meets his own. “Of course, I can understand that. I’m going to do everything in my power to help you do that, to help you save them.”

The words make something in Grimmjow’s chest swell and he holds tight to the hand Ulquiorra has given him, bringing it up to his face to scent properly even though he’s probably scented every inch of Ulquiorra’s body a thousand times over at this point. In the back of his mind, he keeps waiting for the novelty to wear off. To finally understand that Ulquiorra is just as he is, a good human, instead of being the first human to ever really treat Grimmjow like this, to open up to him like this and care for him. To give him the things in life he’s always wanted, like being able to help rescue those who suffered like he once did, to help those who suffered alongside him.

Ulquiorra is, and has always been, his second chance. So he wants to use that second chance to give chances to other hybrids. The same as Ulquiorra does.

The station is clean and nice and no one gives Grimmjow any strange looks when he accompanies Ulquiorra inside, keeping one of Ulquiorra’s hands in his so that everyone can be sure the two of them are here together.

“I was called about a pair of cat hybrids who were recently brought in,” Ulquiorra says to the woman at the front desk. “Why are they were instead of at a hospital?”

The woman checks her files before turning back to him. “Unfortunately, they have to consent to medical treatment, and neither of them will. They just want to get as far away from this area as possible, which is why we contacted you.”

“That’s right. There is a shelter nearby.” Ulquiorra frowns, then shakes his head. “Right. Do they have any serious medical issues that I need to be made aware of?”

Another few keyboard clicks before an answer. “Not that any of us were able to tell, and we had a medical examiner look them over just in case. If they were life-debilitating injuries to be taken care of, we could have trumped their medical consent to make sure they survived. Mostly, there are scars and bruises.”

_ Scars and bruises. _ Grimmjow says nothing, nuzzling the back of Ulquiorra’s neck to keep him calm while he tries to think of what could have been done to them.

“Good to know.” Ulquiorra sighs softly, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Signs of aggression? Where were the two of them even found?”

“They came to the station directly. The one with white hair was aggressive, but only in protection of the orange-haired one. Once we made it clear we would do what they wanted, he calmed down.” The woman picks up the phone on her desk. “Let me call an officer to take you back to them. They’re staying in a bunk for the time being.”

“Okay, thank you.” Ulquiorra looks up at Grimmjow. “White and orange hair. Does that description ring any bells to— You know who she was talking about.”

The mention of the colors has something in Grimmjow’s stomach sinking almost out of his body, and he imagines the color must have drained from his face. “Yeah. I know them. Ichigo and Shiro. They were… They’re twins, but their coloring is different, so they were an exotic pair. Got shopped around a lot more than others did.”

“Christ.” Ulquiorra tilts his head back. “I’m glad we’re taking them to the shelter, then. We’re going to get them fixed up with rooms and food.”

An officer comes to escort them to what appears to be the barracks for police officers to use, two officers stationed outside of the doorway to keep out unwanted visitors from the looks of it. The three of them talk for a moment before Ulquiorra and Grimmjow are allowed inside, and he wonders briefly what must have happened prior to now to call for such high level security. And then he sees them and stops thinking about anything else.

He remembers when they were brought into the circle of rich hybrid owners who’d share and buy off of each other. He wasn’t very old then but they were younger still; they can’t be more than twenty years old now. And despite the fact he’d been cold and cynical even then, they’d lived with each other and he wanted to do what he could for them. To protect them and take care of them, to teach them the necessary skills they needed to survive, because that was all you could hope for with a life like theirs. As long as you lived to the next day, there was nothing that could really stop you from going on.

The low, thrumming growl is a familiar one; Shiro is perched on the edge of a lower bunk, teeth bared at them, eyes narrowed into slits as he looks up at them. He looks unnaturally pale now, sickly, and there are so many bruises and scars that it takes Grimmjow five seconds to figure out that Shiro has been fighting. He used to do that; he knows what kind of marks it leaves, especially if you manage long-term victories.

If you lose enough times, you don’t scar or bruise anymore. Dead bodies can’t do that.

“Shiro.” Grimmjow’s voice is rough with emotion. “It’s been a long time.”

Slowly, the burn of rage in those golden eyes begins to dissipate, replaced with a knowing light that has Shiro slowly straightening from his half-crouch, the shape of his mouth relaxing. “Grimmjow?” he asks, his voice rough with disuse.

“Yeah, man. Holy shit.” Grimmjow stays half-behind Ulquiorra, not sure how Shiro is going to take him being here. Fuck, his hair has gotten longer and shaggier, and it’s dirty and matted in places. They haven’t been letting him wash up, which means the cuts he’s gotten could easily be infected. “I haven’t seen you since I booked it out of that place.”

“It’s really you.” Shiro stands slowly and though he looks underfed, his legs are steady under him as he walks closer to Grimmjow, nose twitching. “I can’t… It’s really you.”

Slowly, Grimmjow nudges Ulquiorra to the side and lets Shiro walk right up to him, lowering his head a touch so he can sniff him back. He smells  _ foul,  _ dirty and sick like his body is lacking so many essential nutrients and it breaks Grimmjow’s heart. One of his ears has a slight tear in it and he wants to groom him but not until he gets him in a proper bath.

Shiro sniffs all along his collarbone and his neck before breathing a sigh of relief, his entire body going slack with it. “Fuck,” he whispers, and his eyes are suddenly wet as he drops his head, looking so defeated. “It really is you. I thought you were dead.”

“No.” Grimmjow moves slowly, setting his hand on the back of Shiro’s neck and drawing him closer, pressing his cheek against dirty white hair. “I’m alive. So are you. And Ichigo?”

“Yeah. Somehow.” Shiro sniffs and Grimmjow’s chest aches. “I didn’t… When they said they were calling a shelter across the city, I never imagined you’d show up.”

Ulquiorra clears his throat softly. “Grimmjow found his way to our shelter and unofficially assists us in caring for the other hybrids there. Your name is Shiro, I believe?”

The soft hiss that leaves Shiro’s throat when he lifts his head makes Ulquiorra tense, but not overly so. He’s learned how to deal with cat hybrids, Grimmjow knows, of all shapes and sizes. “Who are you? One of the workers there? Or one of  _ them? _ ”

“He’s not posing so he can drag you guys back,” Grimmjow promises him, and Shiro makes a soft noise of understanding. “This is Ulquiorra. He works at the shelter. And he’s mine.”

_ Mine. _ The word feels so good rolling off of his tongue like this.

Shiro cocks his head, then looks at Ulquiorra again, creeping just slightly closer, his nose twitching as he scents him. “He smells like you. I guess he must be yours.”

“I promise we’re taking you both somewhere safe. I get if you don’t trust humans. I didn’t. I’d totally get it if you didn’t.” Grimmjow smoothes a hand down his spine, tries to ignore the fact that if he pressed down hard enough, he might feel bone. “But you know you can trust me. I wouldn’t let you walk into a trap, not me. Never me.”

“Never you,” Shiro agrees, and he sounds so fucking exhausted from everything.

Grimmjow looks toward the bunk he was positioned in front of, his chest tightening when he sees a familiar lock of orange hair on the pillow. Slowly he crouches down so he can see better, and altogether he wishes he’d never done that at all.

The pale brown eyes that meet his own are dull, almost lifeless.  _ Ichigo. _

“Hey.” Grimmjow tries to keep the anguish out of his face as he stretches out a hand, fingers stroking down the side of Ichigo’s face, though he doesn’t even really react to the movement, just stares at Grimmjow and blinks once. “Ichigo. It’s been a long time.”

Shiro clears his throat, the sound so much like sandpaper. “He’s why we had to take off. That’s… He’s not said a fucking word in weeks. I had to. I  _ had _ to.”

“You did the right thing, Shiro.” Ulquiorra comes to kneel next to the bed, fingers coming to press just under Ichigo’s jaw. “His pulse feels stable, his breathing is normal, but his physical condition seems very poor. He needs food, water, a bed, a shower. I’ll have to check his minor injuries at the shelter. Can he walk?”

After a beat, Shiro shrugs a shoulder. “I dunno. Don’t think so. I carried him the whole way on my back. He’s just… He’s been like this. He was gonna— He would have—”

“Yes,” Ulquiorra agrees, and Shiro makes a wounded sound in his throat. “I agree with you. He would have died if you stayed there much longer. But you didn’t, and now he’s safe and has a chance to recover. Grimmjow, we should most with haste. I’m going to fill out the paperwork quickly, and I want you to carry Ichigo out to the car for me.”

Grimmjow is already moving, arms sliding under a body that is far too slight, too delicate in his arms. “You don’t even have to ask twice, Quiorra. I got him. Shiro, let’s go.”

Panic wells in the pit of his stomach as he cradles Ichigo against his chest, Shiro shadowing him as he leads the two of them out to the car. Before he has a chance to ask Shiro to open a door, Ulquiorra is there; the paperwork must have been rushed through, which is unlike him, but the determination glowing in his eyes says everything that Grimmjow needs to hear right now. All that matters are Ichigo and Shiro.

It feels like falling in love with him all over again.

“Hold him on the drive,” Ulquiorra says. “Talk to him. Pet him. Do whatever you have to do. Just make sure he’s got you to hold onto. I think he needs that right now.”

Grimmjow climbs into the backseat with him, forgoing the seatbelt altogether and hoping they don’t get pulled over in the process. It doesn’t escape him he’s risking this outside of a  _ police _ station, but. But fuck, he’s not going to let go of Ichigo for anything in the world now, not when he can visibly see how completely ruined he is.

Shiro stays pressed right up against him, refusing to leave his twin for very long, and Grimmjow looks toward the driver’s seat, toward where Ulquiorra’s hands are clinging to the steering wheel, his knuckles bleached even whiter, his fingers shaking as he keeps his gaze focused on the road. Even his shoulders are rigid, like all of the muscles in his arms are tensed, coiled as if to spring, which is something Grimmjow has never seen out of him before. Even at his most stressed, Ulquiorra has never looked so tense before.

“Ichigo.” Shiro’s voice is low, but he noses Ichigo’s hair determinedly, licks the back of one of his ears. “C’mon, we’re safe now. You can smell Grimmjow, right? Answer us.”

Grimmjow tucks his chin down into Ichigo’s hair, careful of his ears, his tail thumping restlessly against the seat beside him. “Don’t do this to me, Ichigo. Don’t get this close to us reuniting and then just let go on us. You can do it. Just look up at me.”

“Call Aizen-san,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow looks up, expecting it to be him that Ulquiorra is speaking to, but he sees Ulquiorra’s phone mounted on the dashboard instead, and a dial tone fills the car a few seconds later.

_ “Ulquiorra?”  _ Aizen’s voice is next, and Grimmjow feels Shiro tense beside him.  _ “How did it go? You’re calling me much sooner than I anticipated.” _

When Ulquiorra speaks, his voice is unusually curt. “Have medical supplies prepared when we arrive there. One of the hybrids was a fighter and the other is in possibly the worst shape I have seen since joining you. Draw a bath for him as well, make sure a shower stall is empty. I want both of them cleaned up as soon as we can make it happen.”

_ “What the hell is going on?” _ The familiar voice seems to startle Ulquiorra, who jumps.

Raising his voice to make sure Nnoitra can hear him, Grimmjow speaks up. “It’s Shiro and Ichigo, Nnoitra. They’re in bad shape. Tell everyone to give them space.”

Silence, and then,  _ “You got it, kitty cat. You owe me for this.” _

“Nnoitra?” Shiro’s head jumps up. “I thought he was fucking dead, too. He got through the winters? How the fuck did he get through the winters?”

“He’s not telling anyone,” Grimmjow murmurs, and Shiro just scoffs and shakes his head.

Ulquiorra clears his throat. “Aizen-san, I am deadly serious with all of my requests. The paperwork will have to wait, and I’ll be staying to assist in making sure the two of them are cleaned, cared for, fed, and resting. Make sure everything is ready.”

_ “Of course,” _ Aizen says softly.  _ “I’ll do everything I can to assist you in this.” _

When the call disconnects, the car speeds up just slightly. “Absolutely do not ever break the speed limit. You do not see me doing it now. Close your eyes if you must.”

Grimmjow’s chest twists up into a knot at the thought Ulquiorra is risking this to get them there faster and he folds his body tighter around Ichigo’s, nuzzling into his dirty hair and praying that he responds soon, at some point. At  _ any _ point.

Aizen has the door open for them when they approach it and Ulquiorra bypasses everyone on the way in, Grimmjow following behind him and Shiro all but clinging to him, trying to stay as close to his twin as possible. Nnoitra is poised at the doorway leading into the kitchen, and Grimmjow can see the others gathered in the kitchen and living room, all whispering to each other, all trying to stare around him without getting too close.

Nnoitra, though, does step forward when he sees them. “What the fuck happened?”

“Long story,” Grimmjow says. “You can ask Shiro about it later, when we have time.”

Something in Nnoitra’s jaw twitches. “Whoever did this, I hope he fucking dies.”

“You and me both,” Grimmjow agrees, and hurries to catch up with Ulquiorra.

The process for checking over a hybrid’s wounds is invasive because it has to be, because Ulquiorra has to see each and every one of them to be able to check them. Shiro doesn’t like to be touched and that’s clear, but Grimmjow watches him grit his teeth so Ulquiorra can check his wounds, can disinfect them and gauge whether or not they might be infected. To his credit, Ulquiorra is gentle, his fingers touching nothing more than he has to, and his eyes never stray from the bruises, the cuts, so that Shiro’s body relaxes slowly, very slowly, but relaxes nonetheless.

Carefully, Ulquiorra pats disinfectant on another cut, and Shiro hisses. “You’re doing very well for me, I’m proud of you. It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?”

Huffing, Shiro shakes his head. “Nah, nothing worse than what I’ve already been through.”

“Which is quite a lot, by my estimate.” Ulquiorra checks his ear, his touch so feather light, and Grimmjow looks down at Ichigo and wonders if that tenderness could arouse him from whatever’s wrong with him. Could bring some light back into his dull, dark eyes.

The thought that Ichigo might stay this way has Grimmjow whining softly, nuzzling the side of Ichigo’s neck, willing him to respond. To do or say something, to  _ move. _

“I’ve finished with you. Nothing serious, but I’ve done enough for your wounds.” Ulquiorra turns, gestures toward the open doorway. “The bathing room is directly across from this hallway, and I’d like to ask you to take a shower while I check over your brother. You have nothing to be afraid of with Grimmjow here, and he will not leave.”

Shiro hesitates, looking between all three of them before he lifts his chin. “Nah, I can wait. You can look him over and then I’ll go.”

“Okay.” No argument, Grimmjow approves. Ulquiorra kneels down next to where Grimmjow is sitting with Ichigo in his arms. “Let’s be careful, Grimmjow, shall we?”

There are fewer cuts on Ichigo’s body but more bruises, some layered in such a way that Grimmjow can imagine how badly he was beaten, sometimes even what. Ulquiorra’s mask of calm shatters as he examines Ichigo’s back, so badly bruised that he seems reluctant to touch it. Not that it seems to draw a reaction from Ichigo, who just sits there.

“Ichigo.” Ulquiorra’s hand comes to rest on the side of Ichigo’s face, fingers so delicate on his bare skin, brushing his dirty hair back from his forehead. “I promise you that we’re going to take care of you now. No one is ever going to strike you again, and if they try, I will break every fucking bone in their bodies. I hope you can understand that.”

It might be Grimmjow’s eyes playing tricks on him, but he  _ swears _ that Ichigo’s lips twitch.

Grimmjow has to carry Ichigo to the bath Aizen drew for him, setting him down in the water as carefully as he can while Shiro finally climbs into a shower stall. Before he can move to do anything, though, Ulquiorra drops into a chair beside the tub, hands moving as if his entire body is on autopilot even though his eyes are burning.

“Do you want me to do it?” Grimmjow asks him, hovering beside the tub before sitting down on the floor, afraid to leave Ichigo alone in this condition.

“It’s fine. I did it for Nnoitra, and he was actively trying to rip my arm off at the shoulder, I think.” There is no humor in Ulquiorra’s voice but Grimmjow smiles just the same, nodding slowly. “I can take care of this. I’m good at this. And I’ve got a lot of practice bathing hybrids who need the assistance. I can be perfectly gentle.”

A skill Grimmjow himself might not yet have. “Understood. I’ll just sit here and watch.”

Ulquiorra is thorough and careful all at once, has Ichigo’s hair unmatted and clean with dedicated effort and concentration, washes his ears as delicately as possible and is careful to keep any water from entering them. When he washes his back, it’s with a touch so soft that Grimmjow feels soothed just seeing it, pleased that Ulquiorra is doing his best to make sure that Ichigo is comfortable, that the bath does not cause him additional pain.

Grimmjow helps dry him off and then Ulquiorra takes his time brushing out both Ichigo’s and Shiro’s hair, working the knots out of it with ease, not pulling or tugging at the roots. Gin steps into the room with food not long after, blue eyes flashing into sight as he looks between the two twins, then at Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. He sets the food down, bows his head, and Grimmjow wonders when Gin became agreeable once more.

“Went ahead and put two beds in one room,” he says, rubbing a hand up the back of his neck. “Bunk beds. Figured it’d be better if they could stay together for now.”

“Thank you,” Grimmjow says, and Gin blinks at him for a moment before smiling.

“Not a problem. Gotta look out for each other, right?” Gin’s tail swishes behind him and he sighs, giving his head a little shake. “Do what you have to do so they can settle in. And thank you for picking them up. Sosuke’s been exhausted lately.”

“Grimmjow, you can take them to their room, yes?” Ulquiorra asks, standing slowly once he’s finished with Ichigo’s hair. “I should start on the paperwork so I can have it filed quickly. Gin, I hope you don’t mind carrying their food—”

He stops speaking, and it takes Grimmjow a moment to realize there is a hand wrapped around Ulquiorra’s wrist, fingers trembling with the effort of holding onto him, of not wanting to let him go. Very slowly, Ulquiorra turns and Grimmjow’s eyes drop to see Ichigo’s arm outstretched, his hand gripping Ulquiorra as tightly as he can.

And finally,  _ finally _ , there is a light in his eyes. He parts his lips, and his voice comes off rough and harsh and  _ wrong _ , but it comes out just the same.

“Don’t go.” Ichigo pulls on Ulquiorra’s wrist, voice soft and desperate. “Please don’t go.”

Ulquiorra stares at him for a long moment, at the hand on his own, the fingers trying to dig into his skin despite how weak Ichigo’s grip is. He has to lean forward to make the hold at all, and all of the muscles in his arm are trembling from the effort.

“Okay.” Ulquiorra turns and steps back into Ichigo’s space so his arm can relax, resting his hand gently on top of Ichigo’s arm, prying his fingers off so he can hold his hand instead. “I won’t go. I’ll stay right here with you.”

Grimmjow feels something thud hard and fast in his chest when Ichigo looks up and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jazz hands and run


	15. Chapter 15

By the time Ichigo has fallen asleep with his back pressed against Grimmjow’s chest, Ulquiorra’s legs have gone numb. Sitting in a chair next to the bed was out of the question as soon as the chair became uncomfortable, and the floor was mildly better until Gin brought him a few cushions with a sympathetic smile and made it much better. But now, his legs have lost all feeling and it feels like it would take greater effort than he has within his body to actually move. Also, Grimmjow is asleep, and waking him seems wrong.

Tesla is the one who finds him, kneeling down in front of him in the semi-darkness. “Ulquiorra, I heard about what happened, but you should probably go home and sleep. You have an actual shift tomorrow and it looks like it’ll be important for you to be here.”

“That’s true. Hmm.” Ulquiorra glances toward the bed, seeing Grimmjow’s nose still firmly stuck in the hair at the nape of Ichigo’s neck. “Will he be a bother?”

“Are you leaving him here? I suppose not, if he’s just sleeping.” Tesla rubs a hand up the back of his neck as he looks toward the bed himself. “Yeah, I can keep an eye on him for you. But you really should get going. It’s not too late, you can still get plenty of sleep.”

“Thank you, Tesla.” It takes great effort for Ulquiorra to rise to his feet, and he braces himself against the wall until his legs start to run with pins and needles and he feels like he can actually move on them again. “If either of these two need something, drop everything and make sure they have it as long as it’s within reason. They had a rough go of it.”

Slowly, Tesla rises to his feet and nods. “Of course. Aizen-san told me everything when he was on his way out… Are you sure  _ you _ don’t want to spend the night, too?”

The offer is tempting; Ulquiorra feels odd about leaving Grimmjow here alone, but he gives himself a shake. No, he needs to go home, turn off all the lights, and get in bed so he can come back in the morning and be what he needs to be for all of them. Grimmjow deserves him at his best, and Ichigo and Shiro need him at his best, so Tesla’s initial suggestion is the one he should go with. Even if the prospect of falling asleep in his empty apartment is not nearly as attractive as it used to be before he adopted Grimmjow.

_ Sleep well, kitten, _ he thinks, stepping out into the hallway with Tesla close behind, who shuts the door quietly behind them and nudges Ulquiorra toward the office.

He almost bumps into Nnoitra in the process, who steps out of the kitchen toward the office at exactly the same moment. Of course, Nnoitra has better reflexes and immediately recoils, teeth bared as a low hiss leaves his throat.

“Nnoitra,” Tesla says in a low, patient voice. “Don’t hiss at Ulquiorra like that.”

“Reflex. He startled me,” Nnoitra insists, and Ulquiorra’s head swivels between the two of them, his mouth falling open a little when he realizes there is no low dangerous undertone to Nnoitra’s voice right now. “What’s he even still doing here? It’s your shift.”

Tesla stretches out a hand, taking the hair brush from Nnoitra’s fingers. “He was dozing in the twins’ room since Grimmjow was staying the night. I’m just sending him home.”

“And then you’ll meet me in the living room, yes?” Nnoitra fixes that one eye on Ulquiorra.

“Of course. I promised you that I would as long as I had the office in order, and Aizen-san did a lot of the organizing before I even got here.” Again, Tesla is gentle as he takes a step forward, and Ulquiorra is torn between shock and horror as he reaches up to touch Nnoitra’s cheek. “Go get comfortable and I’ll be in there in just a minute. I told you I’d never keep you waiting for long, and I keep my word, don’t I?”

Nnoitra sighs and rolls the one eye. “You have so far,” he mutters. “Did you bring eggs?”

“Hard-boiled and peeled just like you like,” Tesla says. “Go on, now, I’ll be there.”

With one last derisive glance in Ulquiorra’s direction, Nnoitra vanishes back into the kitchen, leaving the hallway quiet in his absence. Tesla gives the doorway a fond look and Ulquiorra just blinks at him, not sure if it’s the general fatigue or just the absolutely mind-boggling idea that the same hybrid who’d tried to  _ bite _ him for washing his hair was letting Tesla pet him like it was not a big deal at all.

“He’s sweet,” Tesla muses, his hand firm in Ulquiorra’s back as he guides him toward the office. “Once you get to know him, that is. Now, you should go. I did promise him I wasn’t going to keep him waiting, and I plan on keeping that promise.”

“Right. You’ve. You really tamed him.” Ulquiorra blinks, not sure how to process that.

Truth be told, Ulquiorra has seen difficult hybrids, especially those who used to be forced to fight one another for the money their owners could earn, but Nnoitra is something else. All he’s done since coming here is make snide remarks, vaguely almost-threatening noises, and implied that any human who comes within ten feet of him is going to be subject to whatever damage he can do even without venom. Maybe part of Ulquiorra even thought he  might have been impossible to pair with someone given that unsavory behavior.

Tesla only smiles and shakes his head. “I’d hate to do that. Nnoitra is wonderful just the way he is, and I don’t want to change any part of him. Don’t you agree it’d be awful for a hybrid’s personality to need to be tamed? I only want Nnoitra to be himself around me.”

“Himself,” Ulquiorra muses. “I really do need to go home and sleep.”

“Have a safe trip. I have a cobra to brush and feed.” Tesla closes the office door shut behind him, and Ulquiorra just stares at the door for a moment before going to his car, shaking his head at the situation and the sheer incredulity he feels.

At least someone is getting along with Nnoitra, he supposes.

The drive home is quiet and Ulquiorra’s head refuses to shut down, his thoughts replaying the sight of the twins in the police barracks and how wasted and pale Ichigo looked in Grimmjow’s arms. His thoughts are all over the place.  _ That could have been Grimmjow _ and  _ I’m going to find those motherfuckers who did this and end them _ and  _ Ichigo’s clingy nature is going to make it hard to find him a new home _ and  _ Shiro won’t want to leave his side but who would ever adopt two hybrids at the same time like this? _

By the time he pulls up in his own driveway, he has the beginnings of a migraine.

The apartment is lit up inside and he huffs a sigh at himself for forgetting to turn off the lights before they rushed off to the police station, but a voice calls out to him as he’s fumbling with his keys in the half-glow of the living room light spilling through the window.

“Hmm?” Ulquiorra lifts his head and it swivels around until he realizes the sound is coming from his left. “Oh, Zangetsu-san. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”

He shoves his keys back into his pocket and steps over the short hedges separating his lawn from the lawn of the man who lives next to him. Only a single, three-wick mosquito repellant candle provides enough light for Ulquiorra to see a familiar older man seated on a chair on his front porch. Tensa Zangetsu has been Ulquiorra’s neighbor ever since he moved in, and Ulquiorra initially worried about having an older neighbor given the track record people his age tend to have with neighbors not in the same age group.

“Tensa, boy. I told you that a long time ago.” Zangetsu—  _ Tensa, _ Ulquiorra corrects himself— gestures toward the empty chair next to him. “Feel free to have a seat.”

The air is really too cold to be sitting in, but Ulquiorra lowers himself into the chair just the same; Tensa has been disproportionately kind to him over the years. “Sorry, sir. It’s been a very long day for me. We had an emergency at the shelter.”

“I thought as much when I heard your car whip out of here so fast. Here.” Tensa picks up a stack of what appears to be letters sitting at his elbow on the small table between the chairs and passes them to Ulquiorra. “I picked up your mail when it arrived so nothing would happen to it. Where’s that big tall cat of yours that I’ve been seeing around?”

“Grimmjow is staying the night at the shelter. Hybrids he knows came in today and he fell asleep with one of them.” Ulquiorra pinches the bridge of his nose; what if Grimmjow feels uneasy about leaving them there? What are they supposed to do? “A long day, as I said.”

A hand comes to rest gently on Ulquiorra’s shoulder. “You sound like you need to talk about it. What happened with these hybrids that came in?”

It takes Ulquiorra a good half an hour to recount the whole story with as often as his voice stops on the harsher details, and he hardly argues when Tensa presses a mug of coffee into his hands, having ducked back into his house just long enough to retrieve one. By the time he reaches Tesla waking him and backtracks enough to tell Tensa about Nnoitra and the issues with him, he’s even more exhausted than he was, but it feels like some of the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, and that is nice.

Tensa hums thoughtfully. “Haven’t had anything to do with hybrids, you know, but I’ve met enough of them to know you’re doing some damned important work at that shelter.”

“Someone has to do it, and so many people don’t think anything about them, you know?” Ulquiorra stares down at his own hands, shaking his head at himself. “I wish I knew what to do. I can’t just fix this. I don’t think I can get justice for them no matter what I do. I feel like I just… I have to let it be, and I  _ hate _ that. I can’t even control what happens to them after they get adopted, and then I just—”

“So  _ do _ control who adopts them,” Tensa says, voice with just an edge of suggestion to it.

Ulquiorra shakes his head, taking a sip from the mug in his hands. It’s strong and dark and he really needs it right now;  _ damn _ , he makes good coffee. “I don’t know anyone who could. I mean, there’s Nanao, but I don’t think that’s a proper fit. Otherwise—”

“Let me ask you a question.” Tensa is quiet for a moment and Ulquiorra studies his face, the rough stubble along his jaw and the distant expression in his eyes. “What are you going to do if that big cat of yours isn’t gonna let go of the little one without a fight?”

“Oh.” Admittedly, Ulquiorra never thought about that. “I don’t know. I… That’s a smart question to ask. I wish I had a proper answer for it.”

Tensa chuckles softly. “Like I said, you needed to talk it out. You just adopted him, might be hard for you to get the proper certification to adopt more than one at a time, right?”

“What? Oh, no, I’m not suited to taking care of someone in that kind of condition. Doing what I can for him at the shelter is one thing, but Ichigo needs serious care, and it’s not something I’m capable of doing.” Taking care of Grimmjow is pretty much his limit; Ulquiorra would be useless to get someone through that kind of long-lasting trauma.

“Might be something to look into just in case. You said Ichigo asked you to stay with him, didn’t he? Maybe you made him feel safe.” Tensa shrugs a shoulder. “Not much of a price you can put on that kind of thing. It’s the brother you’d have to worry about.”

Ulquiorra winces. “Yeah. I don’t want to separate them if I don’t have to, you know?”

“Of course I know, they’re brothers who have been through hell and back together. It was only natural for you to want to keep them together if you can.” Tensa’s hand lands on his shoulder again, and this time it squeezes firmly; the man has a firmer grip than Ulquiorra expected. “Sleep on it. But think about it seriously. You’re the one who just said it’s important to make sure hybrids get a choice in which humans they end up with.”

Ulquiorra did say that.  _ Damn _ him. “Right. Thank you for the conversation, Tensa-san. You should be getting to bed soon. It’s getting pretty late.”

“I’m not so concerned. It’s just me here, I’ve got nowhere to be. Besides.” Tensa waves a hand toward the street. “It’s a nice neighborhood. Quiet at night.”

_ Maybe he’s lonely, _ Ulquiorra thinks. “Enjoy your evening, then. And thank you, again.”

He collects his mail and finds the right key within fifteen seconds, shutting off the lights in his apartment and locking up as he goes so he can trudge toward the empty bedroom waiting for him. No part of him  _ wants _ to go to bed when Grimmjow is asleep in a different part of the city; he feels like he should have sucked it up and slept on the floor or something to be there for Grimmjow if he woke up in the middle of the night and needed him. Or if Ichigo woke up… What  _ had _ that comment of his meant, anyway?

_ Don’t go. Please don’t go. _

Ulquiorra is still thinking about those words when he falls asleep

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Tesla is sitting in the office when Ulquiorra walks in. Aizen is nowhere in sight, but that is hardly a surprise in the grand scheme of things. What  _ is _ a surprise is the sight of Nnoitra sitting in the chair next to Tesla, doing nothing but sitting there with his head resting on Tesla’s shoulder, staring at the screen of the computer. Every so often, Tesla stretches up a hand to touch Nnoitra’s cheek, and Ulquiorra just stares at them as he goes about making a fresh pot of coffee, dropping a bag of pastries on the table.

“Morning, Ulquiorra. I thought I’d wait until you came in to tell you how last night went after you went home.” Tesla shifts, and Nnoitra makes a noise of protest. “Okay, okay.”

“I see you’ve made a new friend for real,” Ulquiorra says; Nnoitra sneers at him.

Of course, Tesla only strokes Nnoitra’s hair and nods once. “So, Grimmjow did wake up and ask where you were, and I told him I sent you home and that he was allowed to stay here with Ichigo for the rest of the night. I think he was bummed you left.”

“I spent a good half an hour thinking I should have stayed,” Ulquiorra admits.

Nnoitra wrinkles his nose at him. “You two that clingy? You ain’t wearing a mark yet.”

“It’s a matter of time.” Ulquiorra says it plainly, and Nnoitra wings an eyebrow up at him. “Do you want a pastry? I made sure to bring enough in case you were awake.”

While Nnoitra pilfers the bag, taking one for him and one for Tesla— Ulquiorra was smart to think ahead— Tesla goes on with his story. “Ichigo asked after you, too. He was even more bummed that you went home, but he and Grimmjow stayed in bed together for the rest of the night. What’d you do to make him like you so fast?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Ulquiorra says. It’s the truth, after all. He did nothing.

“Did you give him a bath?” Nnoitra asks, and Ulquiorra glances over his shoulder at him. “Right, yeah, of course you did. I heard you on the phone, all worried and shit. He’s probably got big sparkly heart eyes for you because you were the first nice human to him in years. And you got Grimmjow, and Grimmjow smells happy. Mystery solved.”

Ulquiorra raises an eyebrow at him. “I gave you a bath and you got mad at me.”

“I don’t like you.” Nnoitra sticks his tongue out at him, then drags his head against Tesla’s cheek. “This one is fine. ‘Sides, Shiro doesn’t like you either.”

“Whatever. I’m not trying to be  _ liked. _ I’m just. Trying to figure out what to do.” Ulquiorra pours himself a cup of coffee, glancing toward the hallway. “Anything else happen last night? Grimmjow wasn’t upset with me or anything, was he?”

Tesla shakes his head, then pats Nnoitra on the shoulder. “Nope. Just what I said. All right, Nnoitra, I need to go home for the day. I’ll be back tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Nnoitra leans away from him, just enough for Tesla to stand up. “Have a good sleep, Tesla. Don’t keep me waiting tonight.”

“Of course I won’t.” Tesla picks up his pastry and shoots Nnoitra a dazzling smile over his shoulder. “Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight.”

Ulquiorra waits for the door to close before he looks at Nnoitra. “So you and Tesla are getting along. That’s nice to see. How does Ichigo smell to you?”

“Hmm? Sad. Upset. Depressed. You know, the usual for a hybrid who’s been beaten and abused that much.” Nnoitra stands, pastry in hand, and pats Ulquiorra on the head as he walks by. “I’m going to go sleep. Don’t disturb me. I’ll get up for dinner myself.”

For Nnoitra, that is more than civil. Ulquiorra stares after him for a long minute. Today is already too weird for him, so he sits behind the computer and gets to work. Tesla has done almost everything; Ulquiorra finishes the rest, checks everything over, and takes the bag of pastries down the hallway with a mug of coffee in hand for Grimmjow. If he’s going to be faced with sad kitty eyes this morning, he wants to have all the tricks up his sleeve possible to apologize and make Grimmjow feel better.

Shiro is awake in the top bunk when he walks into the room, peering at him through the rails. “You’re Grimmjow’s human,” he says. “What are you doing just walking in?”

“Breakfast.” Ulquiorra holds the bag up. “Do you want one, Shiro?”

Golden eyes study him before Shiro climbs down the ladder, taking the bag. “Hell yeah.”

“Shiro?” Ichigo’s voice is dry and scratchy as he pushes himself up from the mattress, pale brown eyes fluttering open slowly as he takes in the scenery. “Oh. Oh, he’s back.”

Ulquiorra sits down on the chair in the corner of the room, setting the mug of coffee on the desk. “Yes, I’m back. How did you sleep last night— Oh.”

To his surprise, Ichigo manages to move fast on his shaking legs, climbing into Ulquiorra’s lap and shoving his head under Ulquiorra’s chin without another word. For a moment, Ulquiorra struggles with what to do before slowly, hesitantly, placing his hands on Ichigo’s back to keep him stable and from falling. The light shaking in his limbs proves just how weak he still is, but the rusty sound of his purring as he curls against Ulquiorra’s chest is at least real, so Ulquiorra decides he can tolerate it.

Ichigo is hardly the first hybrid who likes to cling, after all. He can handle this.

“Morning, Quiorra.” Grimmjow’s voice is throaty and husky from sleep. He sits with his head propped on an arm, eyes lidded. “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Like shit,” Ulquiorra admits. “I didn’t like falling asleep in an empty apartment.”

Grimmjow’s smile softens into a small frown. “Yeah, I get that. We won’t do that again.”

Something in his chest gives a little twist at Grimmjow’s words and he smiles softly, a startled squeak leaving his mouth when Ichigo nuzzles the front of his throat. Grimmjow laughs at the sight of them and slides out from the bed, picking up the mug of coffee and seating himself on the desk like he owns the place. Shiro drops down on Ichigo’s bunk with a pastry in hand, licking frosting off of the side of his hand.

“Sorry about that,” Grimmjow says, nodding toward Ichigo. “He’s been through a lot but you smell safe to him now. He can smell you on me.”

Ulquiorra raises an eyebrow at him. “Can other hybrids smell me on you? Just like that?”

“We can. You share a house and a bed and you think he doesn’t smell like you? For a human who’s been taking care of hybrids for years, you’re slow.” Shiro eyes them just the same, and Ulquiorra thinks he must be very unhappy about this turn of events. “Be good to him.”

“Of course. I’m not going to let anything happen to him.” Slowly, Ulquiorra picks one of his hands off of Ichigo’s back, combing it through the long length of his hair.

Grimmjow sighs, staring down into his mug. “So, what are the rehoming odds here?”

“Rehoming. No. Wait a minute.” Shiro jerks a hand across the front of his own throat. “I’m not going anywhere without him. The last thing I need is some other asshole getting their hands on him and hurting him. I dragged him out of hell once. I can’t do it again.”

Gently, Ulquiorra tucks Ichigo’s hair back behind his shoulder, fingers brushing over the base of his ear, which only makes Ichigo purr louder against his throat. “You’re both far too injured to be rehomed immediately, so calm down. My official recommendation will be that the two of you should go together, and you can say no to anyone who wants to adopt you so you can end up in the same home. Until then, you can stay here.”

“I told you Quiorra was going to look out for you.” The sheer amount of pride in Grimmjow’s voice makes Ulquiorra’s heart flutter. “He’s the best human.”

“Sounds like the only damned good one in the whole universe at this point,” Shiro mutters.

Grimmjow sips his coffee. “Well, he’s fucking amazing. Look at me. I was a hell of a lot worse off when I showed up here, and he’s taken care of me ever since I walked through the door. The humans he okay’s for adoption are so fucking kind, too.”

Ulquiorra hides his face in Ichigo’s hair, his cheeks burning as he listens to Grimmjow’s boastful praise. Though he knows Grimmjow must think well of him to want to remain with him, he never dreamed it was on this level. Ichigo must like it, though, because he presses himself closer to Ulquiorra and starts nuzzling against his throat, the purring deepening though it sounds just as rough like this. It’s at least a decent start.

“Ichigo, lighten up,” Grimmjow says. “That’s my human, you remember?”

Sighing, Ichigo leans back, though he does not leave Ulquiorra’s lap. “He smells safe, man. I’m not about to lighten up any time soon.”

Grimmjow shakes his head. “Brat. It’s nice to see you acting more like yourself, though.”

“Cuddly kitten, hmm?” Ulquiorra guesses. “That’s pretty normal for cat hybrids.”

“Here.” Shiro shoves a pastry in Ichigo’s direction. “Eat. You need it.”

Ichigo finally climbs out of Ulquiorra’s lap, joining his twin on the bunk to eat, but Grimmjow climbs right back up where he was a moment ago, wrapping his arms around Ulquiorra’s shoulders and leaning down to press a hard kiss to his lips. It startles a small sound out of his throat and Grimmjow swallows it up, dragging his fingers through Ulquiorra’s hair as he mouths at Ulquiorra’s lips.

“You missed me,” Ulquiorra muses.

“Oh yeah.” Grimmjow flashes him a winning smile. “Don’t make me miss you again.”

Grinning, Ulquiorra leans up to kiss him again. “I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jazz hands and runs farther this time


	16. Chapter 16

During a trip to the kitchen to pick up something to drink for the twins, Grimmjow finds himself cornered against the refrigerator by a familiar silver-haired fox hybrid, his soft tail swishing behind him as he places a hand on Grimmjow’s shoulder. “A minute, kitty?”

“Of course, Gin.” He’d been thinking about sitting down to talk to Gin about things between the two of them, hadn’t he? Ichigo and Shiro won’t die if he doesn’t come back to them in the next few minutes. “What did you want to talk about, fox-face?”

The comment has Gin laughing, his tail swishing faster. “That’s good. Let’s sit, shall we?”

The kitchen table is empty this morning, and the seat Grimmjow takes lets him peer into the living room. Nnoitra’s nest is taking up its resident spot in the corner of the room next to the baseboard heaters, his dark hair the only part of him Grimmjow can actually see. Yoruichi is sprawled in front of the couch, her head cushioned by her arm, talking to Orihime who sits on the couch with what looks like a scrapbook in her lap, a stack of pictures next to her. Hanataro, a rabbit who spends half of his time hiding away in his room, is actually out and about, sitting next to her and chatting happily.

Kira is nowhere in sight, but Grimmjow is pretty sure that he must be asleep in his room, sleeping in far too late during the mornings these days.

“I wanted to apologize to you, Grimmjow.” Gin sighs, combing a slender hand through his own hair. “I was rude to you because I was worried about cute little Ulquiorra and I didn’t think you two were right for one another, but that wasn’t my call to make, and I was wrong. You’ve been very good to him, and for him. And he’s been pretty good to you, too.”

Grimmjow shakes his head, exhaling slowly. This is going better than he expected already. “Don’t worry about it, Gin. I know you were worried. Probably didn’t make it easier on you because of the coffee pot, so it’s not like you had no reason to be worried about me.”

“What was the coffee pot about?” Gin asks, leaning forward, eyes intent on Grimmjow.

The memory of it makes him wince. “I was being a jealous idiot and Ulquiorra took me aside to talk to me about it. I guess I just… Threw a tantrum. It was stupid. I hurt myself.”

“Ah, jealousy. Over Orihime-chan?” Gin smiles when Grimmjow just blinks at him. “I’m no fool, Grimmy. I understand what happened, but Ulquiorra really doesn’t look at her like that. I’ve never seen him treat another hybrid the same way he’s treating you.”

The comment makes Grimmjow flush and he nods; he remembers how awful he felt when everything was said and done. “Right, yeah. Thanks for understanding me being an idiot. And I’m sorry I wasn’t kind enough to you after Rangiku got adopted.”

Gin shakes his head. “No worries. Ran-chan is happy. I’ve gotten to see her and talk to her since then. I’m happy for her. It was just rough on me at the time.”

“And Kira?” Grimmjow prompts. “How’s he been doing since then? He’s looked pretty bad.”

This time, Gin is quiet, head tipping to the side. “Izuru’s having a different rough go of it, I think. I asked him if he wanted to go see Ran-chan with me, but he said no, that he just wanted to stay here and rest. I’m not sure I know what’s wrong with him these days.”

“I hope he feels better soon. It’s too bad that he’s having a bad time,” Grimmjow murmurs.

“Your little friends have been having a rough life from the looks of it,” Gin says, and Grimmjow knows a change of topic when he hears one, but he knows there is nothing he can do when it comes to Kira and figures that if someone will be able to get to the bottom of it, then Gin will. “How have they been doing? The pretty redhead clings to Ulquiorra every chance he gets, which is certainly something compared to how he looked when he came in.”

The memory is sobering. “Yeah. I don’t know what it is about Quiorra that makes everyone feel safe, but I’m grateful. You have no idea how grateful I am.”

“Ulquiorra’s such a cute little human,” Gin says, and Grimmjow laughs and nods. He’d been all over Ulquiorra as soon as he got a chance this morning, having missed him terribly during the night. “Surprised you aren’t feeling just a little bit jealous over this.”

“Ichigo needs the care and attention right now and I’m not going to make a big deal if he just wants to sit on Ulquiorra’s lap and get cuddled. So be it.” Grimmjow doesn’t want to admit to himself that he kind of likes the idea of it, the fact that one of his friends gets along with the human he can’t imagine as not a part of his life anymore.

Gin cocks his head at him. “Is that so? Aren’t you such a sweet kitty cat, hmm?”

“Hell, you want to crawl in his lap, go for it.” Grimmjow picks up the drinks he grabbed out of the fridge. “Not to cut the conversation short, Gin, but I don’t want to leave them waiting too long. Part of me is still terrified that Shiro and Nnoitra will run into each other, and I’m trying to keep that from happening for as long as possible.”

Before he can move, Gin snatches the drinks. “Why don’t you go talk to Nnoitra? You’ve hardly gotten a chance with all the drama. I hear his life is quite interesting these days.”

“Interesting?” Grimmjow raises an eyebrow. “Oh, are you talking about the new night shift guy working here? Tesla? I knew the two of them were getting along, but—”

“Getting along,” Gin singsongs. “I’ll go check on your little kittens. Go see him, please.”

With the sheer amount of panic the last day had foisted upon him combined with the fact Nnoitra rarely if ever wants to come out of his self-made nest on the floor, Grimmjow knows very little about what has been going on in Nnoitra’s life. They grew up together, and more than once, Nnoitra let himself play shield to Grimmjow’s punishment if only to stick it to the owners he always personally hated for what they did to him, what they ripped from his jaws with no real warning. And he was waiting when Grimmjow brought Ichigo and Shiro inside, waiting and watching and all kinds of unhappy about it.

Maybe he should make more of an effort to resurrect their weird, fucked-up friendship.

Nnoitra’s hair is like an oil slick on top of his nest of blankets and pillows, and Grimmjow runs his fingers through it carefully before he finds Nnoitra’s peaceful, sleeping face half-nuzzled into a pillow. With his features softened by sleep, he almost looks gentle, but the moment Grimmjow gives his slim shoulder a shake, Nnoitra jerks his head up, eye opened wide as he blinks up at Grimmjow in disbelief.

“What the hell?” His voice is a rasp and he huffs when Grimmjow mewls at him. “Don’t take that fucking tone with me, Grimmjow. What are you doing, waking me up?”

Grimmjow huffs and runs his fingers through Nnoitra’s hair again, and that succeeds in making Nnoitra’s eyelid flutter. “Gin said you and Tesla have been getting along lately.”

“Foxy been sticking that pointy nose of his in my business now, huh? That’s the last thing I expected out of him to be completely honest.” Nnoitra sits up slowly, scrubbing a hand over his face, careful where his scales are; Grimmjow remembers how sensitive they are, how it was almost ticklish when Grimmjow groomed them. “Yeah. So. Tesla.”

“Tesla,” Grimmjow says. “He’s handsome. Nice muscles. You finally have a type, huh?”

Nnoitra scowls at him. “It ain’t like that. He’s a bleeding heart like yours, but worse I think ‘cause only an idiot would walk up to a snake and try to pet it.”

“You’re all hiss and no bite and we both know that. Ulquiorra showed me a picture he took with his phone of him brushing your hair.” The shock he’d felt at the time means nothing compared to the way the skin around Nnoitra’s scales seems to flare pink as he averts the one eye. “Oh, so that was a thing, huh? Nice to feel special sometimes, isn’t it?”

Complete horror crosses Nnoitra’s face a moment before he tries to use his impressive height to loom over Grimmjow. “I do not feel  _ special, _ I feel like a charity case. I wasn’t even trying to get dragged into this shelter, that station just happened to have your fucking number and all sorts of shit went down without me knowing. If it was up to me, I’d just go back to sleeping on the streets every night.”

Grimmjow throws his hands up in the air. “What the hell is your problem, Nnoitra? First of all, you’re getting free food and a free bed. What’s the problem with that, huh?”

“I just. You know how I feel about it.” Nnoitra yanks his knees up to his chest and for the first time in a long time, he manages to make himself look small. “You got lucky, Grimmjow, but you’re a better kinda guy than I am. I’m not as soft around the edges as you are.”

“You really think so?” Grimmjow chances stretching a hand out, curling Nnoitra’s long hair around his fingers, giving it a gentle tug until Nnoitra looks at him. “Tesla is a good guy, I can tell. Ulquiorra told me you were all cuddled up on him when he came in to work.”

The very tip of Nnoitra’s tongue peeks out between his lips. “You can’t even imagine. He’s so fucking  _ good. _ I scared the shit out of him on the first night he worked and he still shared his lunch with me and brushed my hair. He even  _ asked, _ said he’d really enjoy getting the chance to. What kind of human goes and says something like that, huh?”

In his mind’s eye, Grimmjow can imagine that. Tesla asking in that soft and well-mannered voice of his, running his brush through Nnoitra’s hair as gently as possible, probably saying all kinds of sweet things to him while he did. Nnoitra probably scrubbed his face against Tesla’s thigh while he listened to him, let himself soften a little bit around the edges, let those sweet little words come in. How in the hell could any hybrid resist a sweet human?

“A human who cares about you.” Grimmjow chuckles when Nnoitra picks up a pillow and throws it at his face, catching it before it can hit. At that impact, it might have seriously hurt. “I remember when he first saw you. Oh, he had it bad from that day on.”

This time, Nnoitra’s face flames bright red. “I hope you get fleas, you fucker.”

“No reason to be so shy about it, right? You can’t lay on the guy’s shoulder and have him feed you and groom you and still be shy when someone asks you about it.” Grimmjow pointedly pokes Nnoitra between his ribs, laughing when Nnoitra hisses and flattens down back into his nest. He had always been ticklish. “You gonna hide from me now?”

A vengeful eye peeks up at him. “Maybe I am. Do you think he  _ actually _ likes me?”

“Tesla is very fond of you, Nnoitra.” The voice comes from behind them; Grimmjow tips his head back to see Aizen walking into the room, an exhausted Kira trailing behind him with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “He asked me formally to update him should anyone attempt to adopt you because he believes he would be able to pick out a good fit.”

The comment makes Nnoitra’s mouth twist into a line. “Fuck getting adopted right now.”

“He’s looking out for you, idiot.” Grimmjow ruffles Nnoitra’s hair, laughing when that earns him a hiss even as Nnoitra easily presses into his hand. “Just wants to make sure no one gets you that can’t take care of you. He thinks he knows you well enough to protect you.”

Nnoitra rolls his shoulders like it means nothing to him but Grimmjow can see the slightest twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Asshole thinks I need to be protected.”

“Just means he  _ cares, _ ” Grimmjow says, laughing when Nnoitra gives him a look for that one. “It’s good to see you’re doing better, though. Ulquiorra said you were in bad shape.”

“Yeah. Your human was really worried about me. Got mad on my behalf and everything, yelled at a police officer twice his size.” Nnoitra scoots over, one skinny hand darting out to grip Grimmjow’s wrist. “How long’s it been since you were in my nest, anyway?”

The offer throws Grimmjow for a loop; he knows the answer off of the top of his head but he doesn’t say it, just letting Nnoitra pull him down, unsurprised when Nnoitra decides this means he can just lie on top of Grimmjow like a larger, warmer pillow. The last time they did anything like this was the night Nnoitra ran away, the last time the two of them saw each other. Up until that point, Grimmjow usually dragged himself into Nnoitra’s nest every night, the two of them using each other to stay warm in the cool basement air.

Keeping Nnoitra warm also kept him  _ alive, _ but that was besides the point.

“I forgot you smelled pretty decent for a cat,” Nnoitra muses, patting Grimmjow on the shoulder. “You should stay awhile. You’re like a scented body pillow.”

Just because he can, Grimmjow leans forward, dragging the flat of his tongue along Nnoitra’s cheek over his scales. Nnoitra squirms and huffs at him, but Grimmjow can hear the edge of laughter in the sound and smiles, triumphant.

“You ever miss the good ol’ days? Not the fucking abuse, like, I mean.” Nnoitra plants his sharp chin firmly on Grimmjow’s sternum. “Back when we were good friends.”

Grimmjow drags Nnoitra up a little closer, intently grooming his long black hair. “Yeah, I do. I was glad to hear that Ulquiorra found you, y’know. Glad you were okay.”

“Yeah. I’m glad the two of you are together, for what it’s worth. Seems like a decent enough guy compared to most of the humans I’ve known. You seem happy.” Nnoitra wrinkles his nose when Grimmjow swipes him across it but doesn’t tell him to stop. “Y’know, I’m not saying I  _ want _ to be adopted but like, if it was a decent enough human, then I guess…”

Grimmjow grins, planting a hand on the back of his neck to hold him still while he grooms over his scales again. “A decent enough human like Tesla, huh?”

“Shut up, you fucking loud-mouthed tomcat. I never said that.” But Nnoitra quiets on top of him a moment later, muttering something no doubt obscene under his breath.

“There you are.” The voice has Grimmjow tilting his head back to see Shiro standing in the living room doorway, Ichigo hovering just behind him, eyes darting all over the room uncertainly. “Gin said you were talking to snake boy, but you were taking a long time.”

Nnoitra’s head jerks up immediately. “Shiro, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Looking for Grimmjow. See you’re hogging him all to yourself.” Shiro tilts his head back, his eyes all for his twin. “Ichi, I told you he was here. C’mon, let’s go say hi.”

“Yeah.” Ichigo nods, and tries to sound determined, but his voice falters slightly.

Nnoitra lifts his head, surveying his nest with a critical eye. “I got room. Come on over.”

Grimmjow wings an eyebrow up at him in shock but says nothing, content to let Nnoitra nap on him while Shiro takes Ichigo by the hand and leads him over to the nest. Nnoitra hooks a hand under Grimmjow’s side and hauls him away from the edge of the nest, giving Shiro and Ichigo enough room to curl up next to them. Ichigo goes in the center, surprising Grimmjow not at all, and Nnoitra waits perhaps a fraction of a second before starfishing himself across all of them, making a delighted noise in his throat.

It must be the added warmth, Grimmjow assumes, because Nnoitra and Shiro did nothing but fight with one another when they were all children living together in the same house. To see Nnoitra draping an arm across Shiro’s chest is a foreign concept.

But everything is warm and comfortable, so Grimmjow slides an arm under Ichigo and tucks his face in against Ichigo’s hair, inhaling the scent of shampoo Ulquiorra picked out for him. It goes well with his natural scent; Ulquiorra is good at everything, apparently.

“Aren’t you all just a cuddly little bunch?” Gin asks when he sweeps into the room, pausing at the sight of Kira curled up against Aizen’s side, still wrapped in his blanket, before creeping over to the next. “I’ve never seen a cobra look as snuggly as a kitty cat, but I guess there’s a first time for everything. You make a pretty quartet.”

Instead of lifting his head from Ichigo’s shoulder, Nnoitra swipes an arm in Gin’s general direction. “Shut the fuck up and get in the nest. You know you want to.”

“Oh?” Gin sounds surprised; Grimmjow aims an eye up and can see a flash of blue before his eyes slide shut once more. “To what do I owe this great honor?”

“Shut up, Gin.” Grimmjow grasps him by the ankle and pulls. “Just come on and get down in the nest with us. Bet that tail of yours is real warm and cozy.”

Gin is quiet for a moment before he slides in next to Grimmjow, and Grimmjow frees up an arm for him, letting Gin cuddle up against his side until he’s comfortable. He nips at Gin’s ear and gives it a soothing lick, and Gin makes a soft little noise against the side of his neck before wrapping his tail around Grimmjow’s thigh. The sheer amount of warmth in this nest is better than anything Grimmjow has felt in a long time; even Nnoitra makes a satisfied little noise, dragging his cheek against Grimmjow’s jaw.

Ulquiorra finds them like that approximately three hours later; Grimmjow has heard humans going in and out but hardly pays attention, and none of them come near the nest so he’s fine just staying right where he is. Ichigo snores softly against his neck and Nnoitra makes soft hissing noises of pleasure every time Shiro absent-mindedly pats his hair. It’s only when Grimmjow picks up Ulquiorra’s scent that he moves at all.

“...not sure, Aizen-san, but if Kira says he wants to, then I don’t have any reason to say no.” Ulquiorra’s voice is soft, halting. “I mean, I have a weird feeling, but it’s been a weird couple of days, so maybe I don’t know as well as I think I do.”

Aizen’s answering voice is soft and tender. “I know it’s been hard for you. It can’t be easy. I never imagined Grimmjow would be connected to so many other hybrids.”

In answer, Ulquiorra sighs. “I’m worried that my bad feeling will hold true and something awful might happen if we let Kira go. But he wants to go so badly these days.”

“Kira has wanted to find a home for quite some time now, and you said this home has small children. Kira likes children.” Aizen sounds far more certain than Ulquiorra does. “I know you worry about him, and I know why. But he’s an adult. He can make this choice.”

Another soft sigh. “I suppose so, Aizen-san. Well, Tesla should be coming in soon, so I’m going to get Grimmjow ready to go home. Have you seen him?”

“Nnoitra’s nest.” There is a smile in Aizen’s voice.

Ulquiorra kneels at Grimmjow’s head a moment later, fingers sifting through his hair until Grimmjow finally looks up at him. “Kitten, it’s about time for Tesla’s shift to start.”

“I know.” But the thing is, as much as he wants to go home, he also has zero desire to move. Just the same, he slowly untangles himself from the pile and finds himself sitting next to Ulquiorra, leaning in to lick gently at his cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

With dark circles under his eyes and his pale skin somehow even more sickly than usual, Ulquiorra looks like shit. He must have slept just as bad as he implied he did, and Grimmjow feels bad for letting him go home alone when he should have gone with him, or maybe dragged Ichigo over and made room on the bunk for him. With everything Ulquiorra has done for him, the least Grimmjow can do is make sure his human sleeps well at night. But of course, Ulquiorra only smiles at him, leaning in to give him a soft kiss that he feels through his entire body, toes curling against the soft cotton of his new socks.

“I could say the same about you. I’ve filed enough paperwork to last a lifetime.” Ulquiorra catches him by the chin and kisses him again, taking it long and slow. “My pretty kitty.”

“Starting to get tired of doing all that paperwork when you really could just be curled up here with us, huh?” Grimmjow tilts his head, drags his tongue over the exposed side of Ulquiorra’s neck and laughing when Ulquiorra squirms and tries to pull away.

Something brushes along the side of Grimmjow’s leg and he looks down to see Ichigo trying to swat at Ulquiorra’s leg. “Hey,” he says, voice soft and husky. “Quiorra. C’mere.”

_ Quiorra? _ Grimmjow grins and steps back so Ulquiorra can kneel down here Ichigo’s head is, peeking out from under the long sheet of Nnoitra’s hair. “What is it, Ichigo?”

“You gotta go?” Ichigo asks, and Ulquiorra nods. Grimmjow can see the slight droop in his ears, but they perk back up when Ulquiorra brushes a finger over one of them. Had he noticed even the barely-there movement? “Are you going to be back tomorrow?”

“Yes. I work each day shift until Friday and Saturday,” Ulquiorra says, and Grimmjow picks up the slight note of surprise in his voice. Does he still not realize Ichigo likes him?

“Oh. Okay, that’s good.” Ichigo drags himself out from under Nnoitra just enough to scrub his cheek into Ulquiorra’s palm, and Grimmjow’s eyebrows dart up to join his hairline at the sight. Scenting another hybrid’s human, huh? “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Ulquiorra nods once. “Of course. Please get some sleep tonight. I’ll be here in the morning.”

When he stands, Grimmjow takes him by the hand and they walk out of the office together just as Tesla’s car pulls up on the curb. He steps out looking comfortable in a button-down plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of jeans with the knees ripped out. Grimmjow’s nose twitches when he sees the bag in Tesla’s hand: a sandwich, chips, boiled eggs? A  _ lot _ of boiled eggs from the scent of it.

They park in the driveway and Ulquiorra’s head tilts toward the apartment next to his own; Grimmjow tilts his head to see an older gentleman sitting there with nothing more than a candle and a mug of coffee. Does Ulquiorra know him? He does appear to be their neighbor.

“Would you like to meet Tensa-san?” Ulquiorra asks him. “I spoke to him last night.”

Grimmjow glances at him. “Is that who that old man is?”

“He’s not  _ old, _ Grimmjow.” Bless Ulquiorra’s heart, he has the ability to look scandalized. “He was very helpful in talking to me last night. I think you would like him since you seem most agreeable with humans who are good at listening.”

A thought occurs to Grimmjow and he nods, immediately unbuckling his seatbelt. “Oh yeah, let’s do it, then. If he’s a nice guy, I don’t mind meeting him.”

“I think he has my mail again anyway, so probably best to go see.” Before Grimmjow can slip out of the car, Ulquiorra catches him by the sleeve. “Be kind, Grimmjow. I know you can be abrasive with new people, but I don’t want you to offend Tensa-san on purpose.”

Grinning, Grimmjow sticks his tongue out at him, leaning down to lick up Ulquiorra’s arm until the feeling finally gets him to let go with a startled little sound and a blush. Then Grimmjow is out of the car and walking across the yard, shuddering in the chilly air while Ulquiorra hurries out of the car to catch up with him, calling out his name.

Maybe Grimmjow can find Shiro a human companion after all. Someone who lives right next door would be a hell of a lot easier on Ichigo’s peace of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it looks like grimmjow is plotting something hmm. thinking emoji.
> 
> also 60k!!! thanks so much for all the support you guys <3


	17. Chapter 17

Ulquiorra, all things being equal, is better at routine than any other person in the world.

This might be him giving himself far too much credit, but as he settles into his chair and watches Grimmjow saunter past to go search out Shiro and Ichigo, he thinks not. Getting himself immersed in routine has allowed him to adjust to a world where he shares his life with another living being who seems preoccupied with spending as much time with other people as possible. Most of the time, when they’re at home and  _ supposed _ to be spending time with one another and relaxing, Grimmjow is talking to him about Ichigo.

He should have seen this coming, all things considered. He spent so much time worrying about his own tender feelings where Grimmjow was concerned that he never stopped to think for a second that just because  _ he _ had only ever loved Grimmjow, that did not mean Grimmjow had only ever loved him. And Ulquiorra is no fool. He knows what love looks like. It looks like the way Grimmjow’s eyes are soft and warm every time he and Ichigo are in the same room together, which is more often than not these days.

Work is starting to wear on Ulquiorra, too, which he supposes is only natural given that work is now where Grimmjow tends to ignore him in favor of Ichigo. It’s only when Aizen sits down next to him on the couch where he’s trying to sort paperwork for the third time in a row that Ulquiorra tears his gaze away to look up at his boss.

Though Aizen is somewhat of a scatterbrain and an enemy to all electrical devices in the building, the man is wise. And when he sets a hand on Ulquiorra’s shoulder, that is a clearer sign than any that he plans on sharing some of that wisdom. “It’s normal to be jealous.”

“I know that.” Ulquiorra pointedly does not look at him, carefully neatening the stacks of paper in front of him, flipping through to make sure each sheet is in its proper place.

The hand on his shoulder tightens further, a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay to be jealous, even. As long as it isn’t hurting anyone, you can feel however you want to about this.”

“My personal feelings are not going to inhibit the way I take care of my hybrid.” Ulquiorra picks up his third coffee mug of the morning and drains it, standing to retrieve a fourth because he hasn’t been sleeping so well the past few nights, and he has no intention of allowing that to make him any less excellent at his job than he’s always been.

Aizen’s expression is gentle, considerate. It makes Ulquiorra feel uncomfortable in all sorts of ways that he absolutely does not want to reflect upon right now. Aizen is…  _ Pitying _ him, and that makes him distinctly unhappy. “Grimmjow and Ichigo, they were friends.”

“I know that.” Ulquiorra is getting tired of reminding Aizen of things and is about to tell him so when Aizen sighs, slides his glasses off of his face and pinches the bridge of his nose where they set. Best not to tempt him into getting properly angry, then.

Instead of placing his glasses back onto his nose, Aizen folds them up and tucks them into the front pocket of his shirt. “Ulquiorra, you know Grimmjow loves you very much. That hasn’t changed just because a dear friend has come back into his life.”

“I’m aware of that.” It takes a concentrated effort to behave himself, to keep his voice smooth and even as he sits back down on the couch with a fresh cup of black coffee.

“Then why are you acting like it’s not true?” The question irritates him more than he has words for, but Aizen is relentless, almost pinning him into the corner of the couch with his body language. “I have never seen a hybrid warm up to a human so quickly before. Except for perhaps Nnoitra, but nothing about him is normal. Grimmjow… I thought he was a lost cause. Especially after he broke the coffee pot when you were arguing.”

Ulquiorra’s eyes widen at the words. “He didn’t do that. You don’t know about that.”

“Gin told me. Of  _ course, _ Gin told me. Did you really think he’d keep such a detail to himself when it came down to someone who was going to live with you?” Without his glasses, Aizen is a much younger man. Looking this exasperated, though, he is much older.

“I suppose that’s fair, but I still wish he hadn’t told you. That was my fault, anyway.” Ulquiorra uncages himself from the corner and goes back to his paperwork. Tesla had asked him to gather up everything he has about Nnoitra because he wants to read over it, and Ulquiorra would not be surprised if Tesla came in with an adoption form soon. “I handled the situation incorrectly, and as a result, Grimmjow was—”

Aizen cuts him off. “When have you ever handled anything incorrectly, Ulquiorra?”

“It was my fault.” Ulquiorra is certain of that much. He was too aggressive in the way he spoke, too cruel. He should have been gentle, should have considered Grimmjow’s feelings.

“Is this your fault, then?” Aizen asks, gesturing toward the paperwork.

Frowning, Ulquiorra stops his arm before he risks messing something up. “Of course it is. I laid the paperwork out.” They both know Aizen is  _ not _ talking about the paperwork.

“Grimmjow loves you so much and I’m sure he appreciates that you have done so much to make sure someone very dear to him is getting what he needs to heal.” Aizen catches him by the wrist, and Ulquiorra scowls at him, quickly losing his patience with his conversation. “I have never seen a hybrid love a human so intensely, except for Gin and me. You endear yourself to him further every time Ichigo can touch you without any fear in his heart.”

Ulquiorra sighs. “Well, I suppose I miss him acting like he felt that way.”

“He’s just having trouble splitting his time between you and Ichigo. It might not be something he has much experience with. He had nothing before you, and then you were his whole world.” Aizen shrugs, but Ulquiorra does not like the bitter sting that comes when he realizes that means he  _ isn’t _ Grimmjow’s whole world anymore.

And then he sighs and scrubs a hand over his face, leaning back into the couch. He doesn’t  _ want _ to be the only thing Grimmjow has, and he knows that intuitively. Grimmjow needs to have a world larger than him, needs to have friends and family and be able to connect with new people so that he doesn’t have to depend on Ulquiorra for everything. Maybe it just happened at a bad time, when Ulquiorra let himself be emotionally vulnerable as he opened himself up to the love Grimmjow seemed so desperate to show him.

Was that love even for him anymore? Or was it directed at Ichigo now, a fellow hybrid that Grimmjow knows and seems to dote on? Ulquiorra doesn’t want to think about that.

“You need to take a break for lunch,” Aizen tells him, taking the paperwork from his hands and startling a wounded noise from his throat. “I won’t damage any of your work. Go out and get something to eat away from here. I’ll tell Grimmjow where you’ve gone.”

“If he even notices,” Ulquiorra mutters, and instantly hates himself for it. “You’re right. I do need to take a break. I’ll be back in half an hour—”

“An hour,” Aizen says. Ulquiorra frowns at him. “You need the time, so take it. Go on.”

Taking an entire hour away from the office feels  _ wrong _ but Ulquiorra shrugs on his coat and ignores his car, instead setting his feet on the freshly-paved sidewalk so he can get himself out of his own head. If Grimmjow chooses not to act on his affection again, or if it was misdirected, then so be it. It won’t change the fact that Ulquiorra still cares about him and wants what’s best for him, and will spoil him rotten until he forgets what it’s like to be fearful of someone who should only show him love and affection.

It might break Ulquiorra’s heart in the process, but he can handle that on his own.

There is a cafe about a fifteen minute walk away from the shelter and by the time Ulquiorra steps inside, his fingertips are numb and he feels mildly ill. The warmth of the cafe allows him to breathe easier and he unzips his jacket as he steps up to the counter to order, jumping when a hand comes down on his shoulder out of nowhere.

“Ulquiorra Cifer. It’s been a while.” The very soft, high-pitched voice has him turning to see a familiar young woman looking down at him from underneath a spill of bright turquoise hair. “Are you still working at the hybrid shelter?”

“Nelliel tu Odelschwanck.” Her name still rolls off of his tongue, proving he really will never lose his touch when it matters. “I am. I haven’t seen you in… What, three years?”

Nelliel’s expression softens into a smile and she nods. “Three years. You here for lunch?”

“I am. Aizen-san said it would be best to get out of the office.” Ulquiorra looks around the cafe, wondering where her table is. “Are you here on your own, or—”

She nods, thumbing toward a table in the corner, a stack of textbooks close to the window. “That’s me. Want to sit and talk for a while? We could catch up.”

“Just let me order some food and I will.” He hates admitting Aizen was right.

The last time Ulquiorra had seen Nelliel, it was during graduation. She was through one degree and halfway through another, and he’d graduated from school but settled on the idea of staying with the shelter for as long as Aizen could afford to keep him hired. They had been friends, and then more, and then less. It was never really clear, and they never cared much about labels, bouncing between friends and lovers like there were no clear lines to begin with. Separating had caused no hard feelings on either of their parts.

Ulquiorra brings his drink and sandwich to her table, and Nel moves one of her notebooks to give him more room. “How’s school going? I thought you’d have graduated by now.”

“I dropped liberal arts and moved on to biology when I realized I was actually starting to really enjoying it.” Nel shrugs, and Ulquiorra nods. When it came to where she put her brain power, it was her business, and as long as she was happy, that was all that mattered. “You’re still with Aizen, huh? I guess that career really suited you after all.”

“It’s a good place to be. I like being able to help the hybrids there. Even the most stubborn and defensive deserve to have homes.” He feels like he’s said this to her a thousand times before; he sees a flicker of knowing in her eyes when she smiles.

“Remember when you got that job?” she asks, tucking her pencil behind her ear. “I told you it’d be a horrible fit because you weren’t good with people, so how could you ever be good with hybrids? And now it’s been  _ years _ and you’re still there. I hear good things, too.”

Ulquiorra smiles. It makes him happy to hear that. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re enjoying school. Your handwriting is now finally legible, and I’m proud of you.”

“Oh hush.” Nel swats at him. “Did you ever end up adopting yourself? I know you said it wasn’t for you because you didn’t think you could take care of a hybrid one-on-one, but I had bets riding on when you’d finally crack until Bazz graduated last year.”

Why does that not surprise him? “I did. His name’s Grimmjow. Do you want to see a picture? I’m sure I have plenty of them on my phone.”

“Absolutely.” Nel leans across the table the moment he pulls his phone out. “I bet he’s really cute. You know, I wouldn’t— Oh my God, he’s huge.”

The picture Ulquiorra shows her is the one on his cell phone lockscreen, one he’d taken with the front-facing camera of Grimmjow wrapped around him from behind, holding him on Grimmjow’s lap. “He’s six-one. And every bit of that is muscle.”

“I’m jealous.” Nel winks at him. “You’ve got yourself one cute kitty cat there.”

Ulquiorra shakes his head at her, opening his gallery and letting her flick through it at her discretion. “He’s a sweetheart. I found him sleeping on the doorstep of the shelter. He used to be owned by someone rich, but… I’ve discovered those tend to be the cruelest owners of all. It’s probably a miracle he lived long enough to get to our shelter.”

“He’s gorgeous. You should let me meet him some day.” Nel hands him his phone back, and Ulquiorra tucks it back into his pocket after checking to see if he has missed messages.

“I mean, he’s back at the shelter right now. He spends the day with some friends of his. It’s why he’s not here. I didn’t want to disturb them.” And he needed space away from Grimmjow, so why the hell is he talking about him right now? “Did you say  _ Bazz _ graduated?”

“He did. I’m ninety percent sure he just cheated his way through half of his finals, but, well, he was busy. You know.” Nel shrugs, rolling her eyes. “I guess it’s really hard to study and pay attention in class when you’re getting fucked two ways from Saturday by your roommate. Oh, you won that bet. I’ll let Szayel know he owes you money.”

Ulquiorra winces. “Why am I not surprised? Of course he finally got what he wanted. Bazz hit on Jugo so much I thought he’d end up actually punching him by the end of it.”

“Oh, that happened. At a party. He got drunk trying to get up the courage to ask Jugo out and then decked him trying to punch someone else.” Nel snorts when Ulquiorra almost chokes on his sandwich at the visual. “You know, you look a lot better than you did the last time I saw you. But then you’d not been sleeping because you were anxious.”

“I remember that. I spent all of the lead-up to graduation nervous I’d trip over my own feet and ruin it.” Ulquiorra shakes his head at himself; he definitely does not like remembering how much of a case of arrested development he used to be. “I’d like to think I’ve calmed down since then. What are you going to do after this degree?”

Nel grins at him. “Internship already set up. I’m going to be on the frontier of hybrid biology in another few years. It’ll help shelters like yours and medical professionals.”

“That’s really good of you, Nel.” Ulquiorra shifts when his phone vibrates, opening the text message when he sees that it’s from Aizen.

The picture makes his throat feel sore; Grimmjow has an arm looped around Ichigo’s shoulders and their heads are pressed together, both of them waving toward the camera with big smiles on their faces. The message underneath is brief.  _ They came asking after you so I told them you went to get lunch. They miss you. _

“Is that a picture? Let me see.” Nel snatches the phone out of his hand before he can say anything, glancing down at the screen. “Oh my God, he’s so cute. Look at that smile. Wait, who’s the cute redhead next to him? Do you have two kitties now?”

“No, I…” Ulquiorra trails off, staring at the back of his cell phone.

_ You said Ichigo asked you to stay with him, didn’t he? Maybe you made him feel safe. _

Nel taps him on the nose with one finger, a curious expression on her face. “Are you okay? You zoned out on me there for a moment and I’m a little worried.”

“I think you just helped me put the pieces together on something that should have been very obvious to me,” Ulquiorra admits, wadding up the paper from his sandwich. “Why don’t you come back to the shelter with me? You could probably use a break in studying. You’d sit in cafes and the library for hours and do nothing but read for hours. Not good for you.”

“Fine, fine.” Nel picks her bag up from the floor and starts loading her books into it. “If it means I get to meet your big kitty cat, then I guess it’s fine for now.”

“There are other hybrids there. You can visit with them and play with them if you really want to,” Ulquiorra adds, and Nel brightens and starts shoving her books inside.

The walk back to the shelter feels much shorter with Nel at his side, and Ulquiorra feels nerves in his gut all over again as they reach the doorway. Aizen is sitting at the computer, fingers moving across the keyboard with a speed that makes Ulquiorra’s eyes narrow in suspicion. When he sees them, though, he quickly stands up and plasters a warm smile on his face, his attention entirely focused on Nel.

“It’s nice to see you brought someone back with you, Ulquiorra,” Aizen says, a hand gently landing on his shoulder. “Did you have a good lunch? And did you get my message?”

“I did, and yes,” Ulquiorra murmurs, and Aizen nods, his eyes still focused on Nel.

Nel beams up at him. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You must be Aizen Sosuke. I’m Nelliel tu Odelschwanck, a friend from back in university. I’m here to meet Grimmjow.”

“Such a lovely young woman. It’s good to know you still have friends. Grimmjow is in the living room with Ichigo.” Aizen raises an eyebrow at him. “They demanded to know where you were when they’d checked the entire building and could no longer find you.”

Despite the uncertainty still welling in his gut, Ulquiorra nods. “Thank you, Aizen-san.”

He leads Nel through the office, ignoring Gin who makes faces at him from the couch, and across the hallway to the kitchen. Nnoitra makes a vague hissing noise at them from the table, Nel throwing him a surprised glance as they pass him, but Ulquiorra just takes her by the wrist and hurries her past before she can Nnoitra can start fighting. While almost everyone here just lets Nnoitra be awful, Nel would never back down from a challenge.

Grimmjow and Ichigo are sitting on the floor in a circle with several other hybrids, and Ulquiorra might be out of the loop but it looks like they’re playing poker. As soon as Grimmjow looks up and sees him, though, he throws his cards facedown and stands, catching Ulquiorra just as he steps into the room, picking him up off of his feet.

“I was wondering where you got off to.” Grimmjow lays a wet, sloppy kiss on his cheek and Ulquiorra laughs softly, ducking his head. “Did you get the picture? It was Ichi’s idea.”

“I did, thank you. It was very sweet.” Ulquiorra frees up a hand, setting it on top of his head. “Have you been having a good day? Aizen-san said I was going cross-eyed from so much paperwork, so he sent me out to get something to eat.”

“The best day.” Grimmjow licks up the side of his face and Ulquiorra wriggles in his arms. “Oh, did you bring someone with you? Who’s this woman?”

Ulquiorra turns his head to see Nel having totally ignored him to kneel down behind Orihime, leaning over to whisper something in her ear. When Orihime beams and lays down her cards— a royal flush— the other hybrids swear and throw their cards down. Shiro cackles maniacally and Ulquiorra thinks he knows who started this mess.

“That’s Nel,” Ulquiorra tells him. “Nel, this is Grimmjow. This is my hybrid.”

Nel looks up at them and then stands, walking up to them, standing up on her toes to rub a hand over one of Grimmjow’s ears. “Oh my God, look at you. Big handsome kitty. Look at that jawline, actually, holy fuck,  _ oh my God Ulquiorra he is purring. _ ”

Grimmjow’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into her touch, the deep rumbling sound of his purr vibrating against the front of Ulquiorra’s chest because Grimmjow just refuses to set him back down on his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, Ulquiorra can see Ichigo watching them, a thoughtful expression on his face. The dark circles under his eyes have faded significantly with sleep, and even though he’s only been with them for a week, Ulquiorra thinks he looks much, much happier than he did when they first found him.

Ichigo catches Ulquiorra looking at him and ducks his head, pretending to care more about Shiro shuffling the cards to deal them out once more. So Shiro  _ is _ up to this after all.

“Set me down, Grimmjow.” Ulquiorra pats him on the arm, frowning when Grimmjow ignores him, more intent on Nel’s hands. “Grimmjow, down. I want to be put down.”

Shiro turns around and smacks Grimmjow on the leg hard enough to make him yelp and jump. “Will you fucking set Ulquiorra down? He told you three times just now.”

“Asshole.” Grimmjow pecks Ulquiorra on the lips and then sets him down, and Ulquiorra pretends not to notice Nel’s wide hazel eyes as he kneels down next to Ichigo.

“Are you having fun playing?” he asks him, careful as he rests a hand on Ichigo’s back, mindful of the healing bruises still there. “Do you care if I check your back real quick?”

Giving his head a quick shake, Ichigo leans forward a little, and Ulquiorra gently pushes the oversized sweater up Ichigo’s back so he can examine the skin there. The blue and purple has faded to green and yellow, and he breathes a sigh of relief at the sight, carefully smoothing his hands over Ichigo’s back before tugging it back down. When Ichigo leans back toward him, Ulquiorra takes the initiative to lean forward, letting Ichigo curl in against his chest while he holds his new hand of cards up to see.

“This one,” Ulquiorra tells him, tapping the top of one card. “And this one.”

Ichigo hums thoughtfully, plucking the two cards out of his hand and sliding them back toward Shiro. When Ulquiorra rests his chin on Ichigo’s shoulder, he finds Ichigo’s head resting against his a moment later. “Thank you. You know, for. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Taking care of hybrids like you is my job, after all.” Ulquiorra’s eyes shift to Grimmjow, his head bent so Nel can rub his ears and croon over how cute he is. “Besides, I was happy to help. You make him very happy.”

“I’m glad. I missed him, you know.” Ichigo takes the cards Shiro gives him, adding them to his hand. “It’s nice to see him happy. He wasn’t happy when I knew him.”

“It took a long time to get him happy, but he’s doing better now,” Ulquiorra murmurs.

Ichigo lays his cards down and another round of swearing sounds out, everyone tossing their cards down on the floor. “I’m really happy about that. I thought he’d gone off and died on the streets. It’s usually what happens when one of us runs away.”

“Your brother found a way to make sure that didn’t happen to the two of you.” Ulquiorra waits for Shiro to deal out the next round of cards, tapping the center card in Ichigo’s hand. “This one. I’m glad he did. I don’t like it when innocent hybrids have to suffer.”

When Ichigo shifts position, his hand brushes against Ulquiorra’s on the floor, and Ulquiorra knows it isn’t an accident. “You’re a really good human, you know.”

“So I’ve been told a few times.” Ulquiorra taps another card. “This one. Now my main priority is making sure that you and your brother are set up with good humans, too. Someone who can take care of you. Ideally, I’d like to make sure you both go to the same person. I don’t think either of you want to be separated from each other again.”

At this, Ichigo is quiet, clearing his throat carefully. “Well, we talked about it. As long as we could still see each other, I think it’d be okay in the end.”

“I see.” Ulquiorra hides a smile in Ichigo’s long hair when he wins another hand. “And you’d want to keep contact with Grimmjow, I’m sure. You two have been attached at the hip so much lately. You probably want to keep him close, right? Make sure you could see him as often as possible. Maybe even day, if you could really swing it. Am I right about that?”

“That wouldn’t be possible,” Ichigo says, his voice soft. “It just wouldn’t be.”

Ulquiorra shrugs, shifting so that he can slip an arm around Ichigo’s stomach, hugging the cat hybrid back against his chest. “Maybe it would be possible. It would take some time to get the paperwork approved, but it’s not impossible to adopt more than one hybrid.”

Ichigo goes ramrod straight in his arms, dropping his cards and turning to look Ulquiorra in the eye. “Don’t… Don’t just say that. You have no idea what it’s like to just say that.”

“I’m not just saying it. Grimmjow’s been dropping hints about it for a while now, and maybe you were too.” Ulquiorra sits back on his heels, and he can feel Shiro staring at him too, can feel those golden eyes arrowing into his soul. “You want to stay with him. I understand that. And you’ve been all over me from the moment we first brought you back here.”

At that, Ichigo flushes, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“Quiorra.” Grimmjow’s voice is very careful and half-distracted; Nel’s ear rubbing has picked up in intensity. “What are you talking ab— Oh, right there, that’s good.”

“Like I said, it’s going to take time to get the paperwork approved. I can go through our shelter, but Aizen-san has to be the one who goes through my apartment and decides if it’s habitable for two hybrids instead of just one.” Ulquiorra rubs a hand up and down the back of his neck, making mental notes about the apartment and what he has to clean up. “I don’t think two bedrooms is necessary since hybrids like to sleep together anyway. It’s part of socialization, but if I had to—”

“Stop.” Ichigo’s hands are on top of his mouth a second later and Ulquiorra blinks at him. “What are you even talking about? Grimmjow said you wouldn’t go for it.”

Frowning, Ulquiorra tilts his head, brushing Ichigo’s hands away. “Grimmjow, when—”

“Um.” Grimmjow blinks wide eyes at him. “I honestly didn’t think you would.”

“It’s fine,” Ichigo insists. “Two hybrids is a lot of responsibility. We talked to Gin about it, asked him what kind of hoops you’d have to jump through. And… My past isn’t pretty, I can’t promise I can be quiet and polite all the time. I still have nightmares—”

Gently, Ulquiorra rests his hands on Ichigo’s shoulders. “I know. You have nightmares and it’s hard to get you to go back to sleep. If you don’t have enough warning about being touched, it scares you. You’re keeping your nails trimmed because you’re afraid you’re going to scratch someone by accident. Aizen-san has kept me updated. I know it will be hard.”

“And you’re still willing to do it anyway?” Ichigo asks, and Ulquiorra can see the swish of his tail, slow and a little hesitant but still hopeful just the same.

“Yes.” Ulquiorra holds his hand out and Ichigo studies it before pushing his head underneath it, and Ulquiorra takes it as a sign, fingers rubbing along the back of his ear, soothing the soft fur there. Taken care of, it’s starting to shine. “You mean a lot to Grimmjow, and you seem to find some solace in me. I don’t mind offering you a home.”

Ichigo stares at him for a long, long time before he pushes Ulquiorra over on his back, climbing on top of him and mewling loudly, rubbing his cheek all over Ulquiorra’s shoulder and chest. The sudden affection is startling but Ulquiorra has experienced this before and rests his hand on the back of Ichigo’s head, letting him cuddle up as much as he wants. When he glances up, he finds Grimmjow kneeling at his head with a small smile on his lips; Nel has turned her attention back to helping Orihime play poker.

“You sure about this, Quiorra?” Grimmjow asks him, picking a strand of black hair off of Ulquiorra’s face, tucking it back behind his ear. “It would be a lot of work.”

Ulquiorra smiles at him humorlessly. “You’re already quite a bit of work yourself.”

“Hush.” Grimmjow sighs at him. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna pressure you—”

“You aren’t. Ichigo needs a good home, and he deserves to be with someone who can take care of him.” Ulquiorra shrugs, squirming when Ichigo tickles his throat with his hair. “I suppose that’s you, and I can play catch-up. We can do it together.”

Grimmjow leans down, and the angle is awkward, but his lips brush over Ulquiorra’s just the same, a soft purr vibrating against his mouth. “You really are the best damned thing to ever happen to me and nothing is going to change that.”

Ulquiorra tries to ignore the way his chest seizes up with the words. “Now all we have to do is make sure Shiro gets adopted. Maybe I have an idea about that.”

Cocking his head, Grimmjow looks down at him. “I’m all ears.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops! runs away


	18. Chapter 18

“I’m going to need to clean the house as soon as I have another day off,” Ulquiorra says, though it seems like he might be talking to himself more than he is Grimmjow. His gaze is certainly distant enough as he wanders through the apartment, locking up for the night, straightening up the living room as he goes. “Shovel the driveway just in case. Salt the sidewalk maybe? Clean out the garage, and— Grimmjow, what are you doing?”

When Ulquiorra turns around, Grimmjow is there, and the human bumps into him almost without realizing he’s going to do it until the impact rocks him. Chuckling softly, Grimmjow sets his hands on Ulquiorra’s shoulders, holding him in place as he leans down and kisses him, drawing it out as carefully as possible. Kissing Ulquiorra could always go wrong, especially considering Grimmjow’s canines are sharper than most, that he could make a mistake and sink his claws in a little too deep and make Ulquiorra bleed. So he takes his time, moving their lips together slowly as he pulls Ulquiorra closer to him.

The day was a unique one to be certain. It was rare of Ulquiorra to wander off anywhere without telling Grimmjow where he was going first, so Grimmjow was suitably shocked when he came to speak to Ulquiorra only to find the office empty except for Aizen. When Ulquiorra did come back, it was with a human Grimmjow had never seen before, much less heard Ulquiorra talk about— though come to think of it, she is in some of the pictures hung up around the house. Maybe Grimmjow should ask more questions.

For now, though, he holds Ulquiorra close, fingers pressing into the curves of his shoulder blades as he kisses him. Ulquiorra is more skilled at this than he is but something feels hesitant in the way he kisses back, so Grimmjow takes firm control, tongue stroking over Ulquiorra’s lower lip until he opens his mouth, inhaling sharply through his nose.

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” Grimmjow tells him, stroking a hand down the side of his face, admiring how flushed Ulquiorra looks. It shows up so much better in his pale skin than it ever does for any other human, which is vaguely unfair.

Ulquiorra blinks up at him a handful of times before he takes a step back, clearing his throat hard. “I think I have an idea. The two of you were close once, right?”

“That’s the understatement of the year.” Maybe they were just kids at the time, but Grimmjow was head over heels for Ichigo, and the same could be said the other way around. It was a running joke that the two of them would run off together one day, and whether or not they survived was second to being together. “You feeling okay?”

“Hmm? Yes, I’m fine.” Ulquiorra smoothes out the rumples in his sweater and smoothly side-steps Grimmjow, smoothing out the blanket along the back of the couch before he walks toward his bedroom. “You’re going to have to share your room with him, at least on paper. Or, I mean… I don’t know. There isn’t another room in the house.”

“I’d sleep on the couch as long as it meant he had space to himself,” Grimmjow says.

Truth be told, he knows Ichigo would be fine with sharing a bed with him. When it came to taking naps— Ichigo needed at least one, never able to quite sleep through the night— Grimmjow was always right there next to him, letting Ichigo cling to him as much as he wanted to. He’d groom his ears and his hair until he fell asleep, and Ichigo slept better that way, as if knowing there was someone nearby watching over him.

He watches Ulquiorra’s shoulders twitch before his human nods just once, and Grimmjow frowns. “Right, that’s good to know. It’s late. I should be getting to bed now.”

“It’s early.” The sky has just now gotten dark, after all. Grimmjow stayed home per Ulquiorra’s request while Ulquiorra went to visit the old man next door, and Ulquiorra only came back when the pale grey gave way to inky black. “Is something wrong with you?”

“Not at all. I’m just. It’s been a very long day and I’m tired.” Ulquiorra doesn’t  _ sound _ tired, Grimmjow notes. He knows what Ulquiorra sounds like when he’s tired.

Humans would hardly have noticed the different, because Ulquiorra’s natural way of speaking was stoic and almost melancholy, barely any inflection in his voice. But when he was tired, there was the slightest breathy quality to it, a soft downturn at the end of his sentences as if it was taking him a great effort to continue speaking. In contrast, Ulquiorra sounds wide awake now. And he smells like he’s in distress.

That thought makes Grimmjow frown, and he catches up with Ulquiorra in the hallway in easy lopes, his longer legs giving him an advantage. He catches Ulquiorra by the shoulder just before he walks into his bedroom, spinning him around. “Quiorra, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” That is a blatant lie. When Ulquiorra turns to try to pull his shoulder free, Grimmjow can see it in his eyes. The overwhelmed feeling. “I’m just… It’s just—”

Grimmjow waits, watching as Ulquiorra scrapes his teeth over his lower lip and falls silent, like he doesn’t want to say it. Like he can’t say it. “It’s just what? What is it?”

“I’m an idiot. A stupid, jealous idiot who’s very bad at all of this, as it turns out.” Ulquiorra succeeds in freeing his shoulder, though it’s more because Grimmjow just lets him go, shocked, more than anything else. “I’m sorry to have worried you so much. A lot of things are catching up with me and what I just need to do is sleep on it. I’m sorry.”

He stands on his toes, presses a kiss to Grimmjow’s jaw, and then shuts his bedroom door.

Staring at the wood, not quite comprehending what just happened, Grimmjow finally turns and walks back toward the living room, sinking down on the couch.  _ What the hell was that? _

He would be an idiot to not notice how Ulquiorra has been acting lately, the distance in everything he says and does, the little frowns and the way he winces. Grimmjow thought, initially, he must have done something wrong to cause this reaction. For one day at the shelter— an anxiety-laden day where he needed Ichigo and Shiro to calm him down— he thought he’d done something exceptionally stupid, and Ulquiorra was done with him. He was going to turn Grimmjow back into the shelter and take his own life back.

Of course, that was stupid. He was an idiot. Ulquiorra just today had proven that, doing the one thing Grimmjow never dared to ask him for. If it was up to him, he and Ichigo would share a home just to make sure they never lost one another again. The mere thought of Ichigo living with anyone else, and of not seeing him again, makes Grimmjow’s chest seize up the same way it had been he’d been sold off, guaranteed never to see the twins again. He and Ichigo clung to each other; they had to be pried off of each other.

Dully, he still remembers the backhand to the face, the order to obey even as his ears flattened, even as he reached for Ichigo one more time. His wrist was broken for punishment and as a reminder that  _ he _ was not the one in control.

Everything seemed fine today, and then just suddenly it wasn’t, and—

Grimmjow is an idiot. He is  _ absolutely _ every bit the idiot he always thought he was.

He surges up from the couch and stalks down the hallway as quickly as he can, shoving open Ulquiorra’s bedroom door without hesitation this time. Having cowered outside of it during a storm, he felt like a fool for ever thinking that Ulquiorra would hurt him for wanting his attention and companionship when he was afraid. Every negative concern he ever had where Ulquiorra was concerned was constantly proven to be bullshit time and time again, and Ulquiorra kept sticking his neck out there for Grimmjow. He can do the same now.

“Grimmjow!” Ulquiorra spins around toward him, his pajamas knotted up in his hands, in nothing but his boxers. There’s so much white, white skin on display that Grimmjow stops for exactly half of a second. “Grimmjow, I’m trying to get dressed for—”

“Good. That makes this easier.” He yanks the clothes out of Ulquiorra’s hands, throws them on the dresser and then picks him up, hands sliding up the backs of his thighs.

_ Soft. _ Ulquiorra’s all pale, smooth skin and Grimmjow’s tail twitches when his fingers encounter the bottom of Ulquiorra’s boxers, the fabric loose around his legs. It’s thin, and he could probably tear it if he really wanted to, shred it into little pieces.

“What are you doing?” Ulquiorra asks him, arms thrown around Grimmjow’s shoulders no doubt to keep himself stable. As if Grimmjow would ever drop him.

“Do you trust me?” Grimmjow asks him, and he sees Ulquiorra’s eyes widen. “Do you?”

Ulquiorra nods immediately. “Of course I trust you— Where are we going?”

Grimmjow kicks his own bedroom door open with one foot, and he doesn’t need to have any of the lights on to be able to see just fine in the dark. He shoves the door shut with his ass and carries Ulquiorra over to his bed, dropping him on the bedspread. While Ulquiorra tries to sit up, Grimmjow yanks his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside and then crawling on top of his human, pinning Ulquiorra down beneath his weight.

His skin is cold. It’s something Grimmjow has noticed, that Ulquiorra gets cold easily, and it’s probably something to do with how thin he is, how pale he is. So he pins Ulquiorra down and presses his own warm, heavy weight down on top of him, dragging his cheek against Ulquiorra’s collarbones. He can smell Ichigo on Ulquiorra’s skin, and theoretically that’s fine but it’s also  _ not _ and he has the stupid, primal urge to replace that scent with his own.

“Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra’s voice is low and soft now, a slight breathy edge to it that has Grimmjow purring softly in answer. “Is this some cat thing I don’t under—”

He scoffs and tilts his head, dragging his tongue over Ulquiorra’s shoulder, unsurprised when Ulquiorra makes a little strangled noise up at him. “You smell like other hybrids and other people and right now, I’m not a big fan of that.”

“Oh.” Ulquiorra yelps when Grimmjow drags his teeth over his shoulder. “Are you going to mark me? I thought you wanted to wait until…”

Now that… Is a good question. The thought of sinking his teeth into Ulquiorra’s skin, letting every other hybrid who ever looks at him know exactly who Ulquiorra belongs to, would feel very good right now. The territorial, shitty cat part of him would very much like to do just that, to pick out a spot in all this pretty pale skin, mark white flesh with a whiter scar. The thought makes his cock twitch and Grimmjow growls softly, pushing his mouth against Ulquiorra’s throat, lapping over where his pulse beats.

“You think I don’t want you.” It comes out in a husky tone, his knee shoving its way between Ulquiorra’s thighs. “You think all I want is Ichigo. That shit ain’t true.”

“I.” Ulquiorra  _ stops _ and Grimmjow pushes up on his forearms to look at him, taking in the flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not true. It’s very difficult to get out of my own head. I know that you care about both of us. I know that  _ he _ cares—”

Grimmjow scoffs and presses a hard kiss to Ulquiorra’s throat. “Yeah he does. Falling for you faster than I did, but it’s half because he sees how good you are to me.”

“I didn’t  _ do _ anything,” Ulquiorra insists, and Grimmjow wonders if he believes that.

“Yeah, you did. Gave me a home, gave me attention and affection, comforted me when I needed it, let me kiss you. Let me scent all over you.” He huffs hot breath against Ulquiorra’s throat, watching his human squirm under him. “Letting me do this to you. But I guess you enjoy it sometimes. You jerked off in the bathroom ‘cause of me, right?”

“What?” Ulquiorra looks mortified. “You don’t know about that. I was—”

Grimmjow drags a hand down Ulquiorra’s chest, fingers pressing into the narrow curve of his waist. “You were hard under me in bed. I could feel it. I wanted you to stay right there and take care of it where I could watch. Maybe I wanted to help you with it.”

“Oh.” Ulquiorra swallows hard. “I thought I’d gotten out before you noticed.”

Shaking his head, Grimmjow flattens his thigh between Ulquiorra’s, unsurprised to find him already half-hard. “Nah. I noticed. I was even in the bathroom brushing my teeth while you were jerking off. Just didn’t hear me. Must’ve been fantasizing real deep, huh?”

Ulquiorra looks impossibly more embarrassed but Grimmjow just kisses him, his lips restless and warm against Ulquiorra’s own. God, he  _ wants. _ Ulquiorra smells like him now, smells like him  _ properly, _ flushed and warm under him, getting hard because of his touch, his mouth, his tongue. When he said he wanted him, he meant it. Admitting he loved Ulquiorra was hard— Grimmjow sucks at feelings and has had his heart broken, okay, feelings are fucking difficult— but sexual interest is different. It’s easy. It’s his body heating up and his instincts demanding he pin Ulquiorra down underneath him.

“Wait.” Ulquiorra’s hand strokes down the side of his face and Grimmjow mewls, pushing into his touch, a touch that’s always been gentle and tender for him. A touch that’s always centered him no matter what. “You aren’t doing this because I agreed to adopt Ichigo, are you? Or because you think you have to? You don’t owe me anything, Grimmjow.”

It hurts his chest a little bit to know Ulquiorra thinks like this. Maybe he hasn’t been reassuring him enough. Ulquiorra trips over himself to reassure Grimmjow; he needs to return the favor. “Nah. I’m doing this because I want to show you how much I want you. ‘Cause I do, so fucking much. I want you more than anything else.”

He kisses the side of Ulquiorra’s nose, grinning when Ulquiorra scrunches it up. So fucking cute, who knew humans could be this adorable? He’s not convinced any of them are as much as his human is, though, especially when Ulquiorra inhales and his whole body shudders.

“Then I want to do something for you, too,” he says, and he sounds so firm, so defiant.

“You do something for me every single fucking day, you know.” Grimmjow kisses him again, and it’s rougher than he intends but Ulquiorra kisses him back just as hard, his hand gripping Grimmjow’s shoulder where it hits his neck, his palm pressing hard into Grimmjow’s collarbone. It’s a firm, hard,  _ possessive _ touch and it makes Grimmjow ache.

Ulquiorra bites down on his lip and Grimmjow groans, and then he’s aware of the fact that Ulquiorra’s other hand has snuck down, pressing hard against the seam of his jeans, fingers cupping and  _ squeezing _ and he hisses at just how good that feels. He could rut himself down against Ulquiorra’s hip and get himself off that way— kind of  _ wants _ to, for that matter— but then he thinks about skin on skin and leans back to unfasten his jeans.

“Oh.” Ulquiorra blinks dumbly between his thighs while Grimmjow shimmies out of his jeans, shoving them to his knees before he yanks his boxers down with them. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Grimmjow grins at him, taking Ulquiorra by the wrist, planting those pale fingers against his stomach. “Go ahead, Quiorra. Do what you wanted to do.”

In his nightmares, Grimmjow can remember that last breaking incident before he ran, the last thing that pushed him over the edge and had him bolting out the door even if it killed him. The loss of control terrified him, the fear clawing up his throat. But Ulquiorra lets him have control, lets him direct. Even when Grimmjow removes his hand and lets Ulquiorra do as he pleases, he’s slow and hesitant, sitting up, fingers sliding down Grimmjow’s belly, tracing the pale blue trail of hair that leads down to his groin before his hands curl around the heft of Grimmjow’s cock. That touch is enough to make him fully hard.

“Is this all right?” Ulquiorra asks him, and Grimmjow nods, his breathing already a little stuttered when Ulquiorra strokes him just once, fingers soft and cool against his overheated flesh. “Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, Grimmjow.”

“You’re not.” Grimmjow leans over him, buries his face in Ulquiorra’s hair and inhales. He can smell shampoo and the cool winter air and his own scent, and his cock throbs in Ulquiorra’s hand. “You’ve probably done other guys, right? Not too fast, not too slow.”

Ulquiorra nods, and his other hand rests on Grimmjow’s hip, lightly gripping his skin. “I have, but you’re not like any of those men. You’re my precious kitten.”

_ Fuck. _ The term of endearment has Grimmjow’s hips rolling, his cock thrusting up into Ulquiorra’s fingers. It shouldn’t work that well on him, all things considered, but it’s  _ Quiorra _ and everything about him has always thrown Grimmjow off. He bites down on Ulquiorra’s earlobe, listening to the startled little noise he makes even as his hand moves a little faster, a little more confidently. The pre-come that dribbles from Grimmjow’s cock makes the stroking slicker and smoother, makes it easier to fuck his hand.

“You’re… Oh.” Ulquiorra’s voice is soft and throaty and Grimmjow growls softly in answer, hands fisting in the bedspread on either side of Ulquiorra’s hips. “Grimmjow, I—”

It’s not  _ enough, _ so Grimmjow pushes him back on the bed, yanks his boxers down and flattens their bodies together again as he kisses him. Ulquiorra’s hand is still trapped between their bodies but Grimmjow drags it away from his cock, licking the taste of himself off of Ulquiorra’s fingers as he rolls his hips. His dick rubs up against Ulquiorra’s and he exhales harshly, shoving his face into Ulquiorra’s throat.  _ Better. Just like that. _

“Is this okay?” he rasps out, forcing himself to look up, to look at Ulquiorra’s face.

“Yes.” Ulquiorra’s hands rest carefully on his shoulders and Grimmjow rumbles with laughter at the thought Ulquiorra is trying to be gentle with him even as he’s basically mauled. “This is f-fine, Grimmjow, o-oh.”

_ Good. _ Grimmjow nudges Ulquiorra’s thighs apart with his knee again so he can press them together tighter. He can smell Ulquiorra’s arousal heavy in the air and ruts down against him, enjoying the way it feels to have their warmed skin pressed together, to grind himself against Ulquiorra’s cock, feeling it slick and throbbing against his own. Ulquiorra’s so slender, almost too skinny, soft and fragile under the bulk of Grimmjow’s heavy muscles, skin carved with how hard he’s forced himself to work. Swearing he would  _ never _ be weak ever again, always able to take care of himself, to protect himself.

He’ll probably have to protect Ulquiorra too, on that note.

A hand rubs up the back of his thigh and Grimmjow lets him, dragging his tongue across one nipple because he can, laughing when Ulquiorra shivers all over at the touch. He’s not expecting the fingers that press against his perineum, a firm pressure that sends a shudder of pleasure hot and sudden through his gut. The moan that leaves his mouth is ridiculously loud and lewd, and he fucks himself down against Ulquiorra’s stomach. There’s so much pre-come at this point that it’s easy and smooth and wet.

“Fuck, Quiorra.” He nips at the thin skin over Ulquiorra’s ribs, laving the pink mark left by his teeth with his tongue, sucking the spot until it blooms dark under his mouth.  _ Fuck. _ The thought of marking Ulquiorra seizes him again, wanting to sink his teeth in  _ deep. _

Instead, he focuses on the wonderful pressure of Ulquiorra’s fingers behind his balls, rubbing and massaging that little spot that is a hot line to his prostate. He drags teeth and tongue across Ulquiorra’s chest, leaving more dark bruises sucked into his skin, proof that he was here even as he ruts down against him faster. He can hear Ulquiorra’s soft, whisper-faint moans and it only challenges him to want to do more, to see how loud he can get Ulquiorra before he succumbs to his own orgasm.

It’s no surprise that Grimmjow comes first, his body stuttering to a halt, sudden jerks and trembles shaking him to his core as he yowls pitifully. Semen splashes against Ulquiorra’s pale stomach and Grimmjow leans back and away to look at that, to see Ulquiorra still hard and needy, cock flushed and swollen. Ulquiorra just lies beneath him, wide-eyed.

“Are you okay?” he finally asks, as if he’s not desperately hard and needing to get off, his hand stroking down Grimmjow’s face. “That wasn’t too much for you, was it?”

Grimmjow shakes his head, gripping Ulquiorra by the wrist so he can kiss his palm and his wrist and his fingers. “No. That was fucking perfect. Can I get you off now?”

Ulquiorra bites his lip and he’s so fucking  _ cute _ it hurts. “Only if you want to, Grimmjow.”

He would really just let Grimmjow kick him out of his room covered in come and still needing to get off himself if Grimmjow really wanted to do it. They have to work on that. For now, though, Grimmjow just dives down, hands under Ulquiorra’s thighs to lift them, pinning them against his stomach so he can drag his tongue over Ulquiorra’s perineum, and then lower. Teasing the tip of it over the soft pink pucker of his entrance.

A hand slides into his hair and he lets it, keeping Ulquiorra’s thighs folded with one arm while he wraps his hand around Ulquiorra’s cock, jerking him off as he runs the flat of his tongue over his hole. He wants to  _ taste _ him, listening to the pitiful little noises Ulquiorra makes above him, stuttered little whines and whimpers. What noises would he make if Grimmjow fucked him? The thought makes his head spin, but  _ later. _ Right now, he just licks over Ulquiorra’s hole, keeping his grip on his cock firm as he strokes him.

He pries Ulquiorra’s hole open with his tongue, nose tucked in against his skin, the scent of Ulquiorra’s arousal overpowering when Grimmjow is face first in him like this. He’s smooth and hot inside and the noise he makes, the fucking  _ noise, _ a moaning little cry of a sound that makes Grimmjow lick him harder and deeper. When he smoothes his fingers over the sensitive glans of Ulquiorra’s cock, Ulquiorra’s hips jump and Grimmjow groans.

As close as he was before Grimmjow did any of this, it takes a few minutes still to make Ulquiorra come. His thighs tense and tense and  _ tremble _ under Grimmjow’s forearm, his body bucking helplessly as he moans. Grimmjow keeps his hand folded over the head of Ulquiorra’s cock, letting come drip onto his fingers. When Ulquiorra finally stops moving, Grimmjow takes his tongue back and sits up on his knees, dragging his tongue through the semen on his fingers, groaning at how fucking  _ good _ Ulquiorra tastes.

To his amusement, Ulquiorra hides his face behind his hands. “Do you have to make those noises?” His voice is wrecked, his hair is a mess, his face is red and his skin shines with sweat, and he smells like sex and like Grimmjow and. And waiting would be  _ stupid. _

“I wanna mark you.” Grimmjow crawls up the length of his body, nosing Ulquiorra’s shoulder and neck until his human shivers. “You’re mine, all mine, I want everyone to know that.”

Ulquiorra nods, hand coming to cup the back of Grimmjow’s neck. “Go ahead, I won’t— Ah!”

Grimmjow already has a spot in mind, shoving his teeth into Ulquiorra’s skin right where his shoulder meets his neck, right where the collar of his shirts and sweaters never quite covers. Ulquiorra holds perfectly still beneath him and Grimmjow growls and bites and purrs, his tail lashing behind him, his ears folded down against his scalp; it’s the ultimate rush, the ultimate pleasure. And Ulquiorra lets him do it, arm loose around his shoulders, making only a few small pained noises. It  _ does _ hurt, but Grimmjow laps it clean.

“There.” He studies his handiwork, proud of just how deep he managed to get the bite because it should scar perfectly. “Might wanna put a bandage over it for a while.”

Slowly, Ulquiorra sits up, wincing as he prouds the spot with his fingers. “It hurt.”

“Too much?” Grimmjow crowds in against his side, lapping at the angry red skin ringing the mark as gently as he can. “Sorry. No real way to avoid the pain, but—”

“Not too much,” Ulquiorra tells him, fingers stroking the back of his ear and Grimmjow purrs, pushing into his hand. He feels high right now, off the orgasm and the thrill of the bite and Ulquiorra’s touch. “I probably need to shower. I’m… A mess, to be honest.”

Humming, Grimmjow licks over the bite. “You smell like me even more now.”

“And that’s lovely, but I can’t sleep like this.” Ulquiorra tries to stand, and his legs are shaking just enough that Grimmjow feels a twist of pride in his gut at the sight. “On second thought, a bath… Do you want to join me, kitten?”

Grimmjow bounds down off of the bed instantly. “All you had to do was ask.”

Ulquiorra starts the bathwater and reaches for a washcloth, wiping the semen off of his skin before stepping into the water. His skin is flushed in places now, a soft pink, and Grimmjow purrs softly at the sight, unable to help how pleased he is with himself for being able to make Ulquiorra feel better. Once Ulquiorra is seated comfortably, Grimmjow climbs in with him, settling between his spread thighs, laying against him, cheek resting against his chest so he can look at the mark he’s left behind.

“Here, let me,” he says when Ulquiorra raises a washcloth to it, dunking it in the water. He rings the cloth out as best he can, folds it into quarters, and lays it carefully over the bite, not wanting to press down against it. “It’ll be sore while it’s healing, but it’ll scar.”

Fingers comb through his damp hair and he mewls softly, cuddling in closer to Ulquiorra. “That was very… Sudden of you, all of it. Not that I’m complaining. What got into you?”

“Realized you’ve been acting weird since we found Ichigo and I didn’t want you to think that I suddenly didn’t want you anymore.” Grimmjow cups a hand over Ulquiorra’s hip, hugging him closer, wanting to keep Ulquiorra warm and safe. “You’re my human, Quiorra. Nothing and no one can change how much you mean to me.”

“I’ve been… Stupid. I realized today that obviously you both care about me, but then I got home and I just.” Ulquiorra sighs, and Grimmjow looks up at him, willing him to continue. “I don’t know. I keep telling myself it’s very obvious you love me, and yet—”

“I do.” Grimmjow licks a stripe along his throat and Ulquiorra lets him. “And I know you love me, too, because that’s the real reason you’re taking Ichigo in. I know you obviously wanna do right by him, too, but it’s really because of me. Because you know how much I care about him. Nnoitra could be that cuddly with you and you wouldn’t take him in.”

At Nnoitra’s name, Ulquiorra makes a face. “I know he’s your friend, but… I would  _ never. _ ”

“And you went to go talk to that old man because you’re trying to keep me happy. Maybe you saw how Gin got when Rangiku got adopted and just… Didn’t want it? Dunno how your brain works sometimes.” Grimmjow trails a hand along Ulquiorra’s jaw, up to his cheek, to his temple to brush a few small black hairs away. “I just know it’s fucking amazing.”

Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully. “Well, Gin was miserable after Rangiku was adopted. Kira has been, too. I think that’s why he’s pushing so hard for us to okay this adoption offer on him. It’s a family with kids and he thinks it’d be good for him, but I’m worried about him.”

“You always think about everyone else.” Grimmjow kisses him on the neck. “But think about yourself too, okay? Ichigo really likes you. You smelled safe to him, you made him feel safe and took care of him when he was in a fucking awful place mentally. He hadn’t talked at all and your presence was what inspired him to talk. Don’t ever think that, like… It’ll be me and him, and then me and you. Okay? He’s gonna be so good, I know he is.”

“You don’t need to pitch him to me. I already said I’d do it.” Ulquiorra kisses one of his ears and Grimmjow mewls softly. “Enjoy the water. We’ll get the place cleaned up and I’ll start filing the paperwork tomorrow during one of my breaks. He’ll be home before you know it, and you’ll never have to worry about him going anywhere ever again.”

Grimmjow refuses to stop grooming Ulquiorra while they soak in the water, and he takes extra care to help Ulquiorra bandage the bite mark when they get out of the tub. And maybe, just maybe, he scrubs his cheek over the bandage a little bit, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fucking FINALLY am i right?


	19. Chapter 19

Before they leave the house in the morning, Ulquiorra attempts to change the bandage on his shoulder.  _ Attempts _ because Grimmjow catches him in the bathroom, shoos his hands away, and replaces it himself, adding a few comforting licks to the now-closed bite mark before carefully pressing another medicated cause pad to the surface of it. Of course, he has to rub his cheek against it, too, and Ulquiorra lets him, trying to ignore the way his face heats up at Grimmjow’s tender attention. Hard to ignore when he can see his own flushed and blushing face in the reflection of the mirror in his peripheral vision.

“You look nice.” Grimmjow’s hands grip the edge of his sweater, a sapphire blue that he saves specifically when he wants to look nice, and tug it up just a little, one thumb sweeping over his now-bare lower stomach. “Trying to make a good impression?”

“It allows me to feel more confident about my day,” Ulquiorra tells him, leaning into the featherlight touch, starting to wonder if he might be as touch-starved as Grimmjow.

A flash of white teeth bared in a smile and then Grimmjow kisses him, dizzying him with the intensity of it. “You look fucking amazing. Worried about the interview today?”

“Who wouldn’t be? We have to bank on this to work, don’t we?” Ulquiorra smoothes Grimmjow’s own shirt beneath his hands; the tight black fabric clings to his chest, showing off the hard shape of his pectoral muscles, his abdominal muscles. “This is sinfully tight.”

“I’ll wear a coat.” Grimmjow uses the sweater to pull Ulquiorra out of the bathroom. “C’mon, let’s get breakfast and go to work. I wanna show off to everyone.”

He’d been incorrigible all morning after waking up and remembering that today would be the first time any other hybrid saw Ulquiorra marked up. Well, the bandage for now, the real mark is still hidden beneath so that it can heal and scar properly before he walks around with it exposed to the air. Grimmjow warned him it would probably be sensitive to the touch while it healed, but something in his saliva was supposed to help the healing and numb any true discomfort, pain, or itching. Perhaps Ulquiorra had been reading a few articles on his phone while he was preparing for this morning.

The snowfall has been heavy recently, but the roads have been salted this morning, so the drive to the bakery and then to work is at least a pleasant one. Grimmjow stands pressed right up against his back while they stand in line, his arms around Ulquiorra’s waist and his chin resting on top of Ulquiorra’s head like an extra warm and bulky coat. When Ulquiorra uses his front-facing camera to see exactly what the hell is going on, he finds Grimmjow’s eyes half-closed, his ears relaxed and his tail swishing languidly. He’s happy.

Ulquiorra lets it be. They collect their pastries and get back in the car, and Grimmjow stretches across the entire front of it to nose at Ulquiorra’s neck and shoulder.

Of course, Aizen is nowhere to be seen first thing in the morning. Tesla is waiting for Ulquiorra in the office, and Ulquiorra is hardly surprised to find that Nnoitra is sitting next to him once more, though this time he looks like he might properly be asleep.

“I see you had an interesting evening,” Ulquiorra quips, eyeing Nnoitra silently.

Tesla offers him a half-smile. “As you can see, I can’t move ever again.”

“Nnoitra!” Grimmjow leans across the desk and half-punches Nnoitra in the shoulder, and the cobra springs to consciousness, hissing, eye narrowed. “There. He’s awake. You can go.”

“Asshole.” Nnoitra rubs his shoulder petulantly then turns toward Tesla, heaving a sigh before shoving his face very pointedly against Tesla’s neck. “Remember, you’re supposed to tell him this morning. Not allowed to do it for you.”

Watching Tesla raise a hand to run his fingers through Nnoitra’s hair, Ulquiorra just shakes his head, sets the bag of pastries on the table in front of the couch, and turns the coffee pot on for the day. Grimmjow hangs up their coats and then comes to nuzzle up against Ulquiorra once more, extra handsy after marking him. The fact Ulquiorra is more than happy to let him be as touchy as he wants to be, even if his hand just so happens to keep wondering under the bottom of Ulquiorra’s sweater, says too much.

“I know.” Tesla clears his throat and Ulquiorra looks at him. “I, ah. Wanted an adoption form for Nnoitra, if you don’t mind. I’m going to take it home and fill it out.”

Ulquiorra stares at him for a beat, watches Nnoitra’s face press harder against his neck. “Well, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised to hear this. Move and I’ll get the forms for you. You have tomorrow night off, right? Come by in the afternoon and we’ll talk over it.”

Tesla beams up at him and stands, and Nnoitra makes a vague protesting noise at his source of heat moving away from him. “You got it. I’ll be here.”

After gathering up the necessary forms, including the paperwork that comes with higher risk hybrids— Nnoitra was  _ violent, _ and Ulquiorra needs Tesla to be well aware of that— Ulquiorra tucks it all into a file and hands it over to Tesla. The human kisses the top of Nnoitra’s head and rounds the desk to go, and Nnoitra stares after him before huffing and heading off to the kitchen. Ulquiorra just shakes his head, reassures himself everything is straightened up and ready to go this morning, and starts on his inbox.

Grimmjow brings him a cup of coffee and the pastry he ordered for himself, nuzzling down into the top of Ulquiorra’s hair before dropping down into Nnoitra’s abandoned seat. Though Ulquiorra hadn’t noticed— he needs to get his inbox done quickly— Grimmjow has brought his own coffee and pastry over, and sits next to him while he eats.

A small smile touches the corner of Ulquiorra’s mouth, and he sips his coffee.

When his inbox is done, he eats his pastry and laughs when Grimmjow cuddles right up next to him, nuzzling the side of his neck, his cheek, his hair. The sheer amount of affection is making Ulquiorra feel hot and flushed but in a good way.

Grimmjow is grooming his hair, pointedly ignoring Ulquiorra’s breathy protests, when the door swings open and Aizen steps in with Gin right behind him, plastered against his back in a way that Ulquiorra recognizes. It’s going to be a long day if Gin came in like this.

“My apologies for being late.” Aizen’s glasses are askew and his hair is ruffled enough for Ulquiorra to know Gin must have made the car ride hell. “Did Tesla already leave?”

“He did, Aizen-san. And he asked for adoption forms for Nnoitra, so I set him up before I sent him on his way.” Ulquiorra watches one of Gin’s pale hands slip under Aizen’s shirt, darting up along his side. “Grimmjow, why don’t you take Gin and make sure everything is picked up in the kitchen and the living room? Nnoitra doesn’t seem the type to clean.”

“You’d be surprised, but yeah, I got you.” Grimmjow kisses him and stands, grabbing Gin by the arm and pulling him off of Aizen, ignoring the way the fox growls at him.

The door shuts and Aizen breathes a sigh of relief, straightening his glasses and pouring himself a cup of coffee before he sits down on the couch. “Gin’s in one of his moods today. I tried to tell him it would be for the best if he stayed home, but that didn’t work.”

“I can see that, and I don’t know how you handle Gin when he gets that way.” Ulquiorra presses a hand to the mark on his shoulder, fingers brushing over the bandage before he turns his attention back to his boss. “I need you to sign off on the forms I need for Ichigo. It has to be you because I don’t have the authority to give them to myself.”

“Oh, that’s right. Well, I don’t know.  _ Can _ you handle two hybrids?” But Aizen’s smile is joking and when Ulquiorra moves away from the computer, Aizen takes his place.

Adopting two hybrids is considered to be serious, and it usually takes quite a lot of money to circumvent the rules without having to go through the process of getting sign-offs, double the amount of forms, a stricter home visit. Having one is easier; having two means that Ulquiorra will also have an interview where Grimmjow and Ichigo are just supposed to sit and interact with each other, and one where he has to interact with both of them to prove that he can handle two of them, that they can handle each other. It’s a pain in his ass but he knows why, and he accepts how much work it is going to take him.

Aizen fills out information as necessary. “What happened to your shoulder?”

“This?” Ulquiorra points to the bandage and Aizen nods without looking at him. “Grimmjow marked me last night. I just have to wait for it to heal before I can take the bandage off.”

“Ah. I thought it was something like that. Congratulations, Ulquiorra. It’s a very high honor for a hybrid to view a human as worth calling their own.” Aizen pauses, looks at him over the top of his glasses. “He picked a very visible spot, I see. How interesting.”

Ulquiorra nods and debates whether his next question is going to violate a rule or something. But Aizen will probably not care. “Has Gin marked you somewhere?”

“He has.” Without another word, Aizen lifts the hair off of the nape of his neck. It’s long enough that it covers the entire back of it and settles against the top of his back, but with it raised, Ulquiorra can see the circle of teeth prints scarred into his flesh.

“That’s… Almost visible.” Ulquiorra frowns. “What caused him to choose such a location?”

Aizen smoothes his hair back into place and turns his attention to the computer once more. “It was at my request. It’s visible enough if I move my hair so Gin still has the bragging rights of saying he did it, but I didn’t want it to be too visible to other people.”

“I see.” Ulquiorra rubs his own shoulder. He hadn’t thought about it, not really, but he doesn’t mind if anyone else sees it. Aizen probably has reasons he doesn’t understand.

The door creaks open and Ulquiorra expects to see Gin slipping back into the office to attack Aizen, his eyes widening slightly when they meet a pair of familiar warm brown ones as Ichigo lets himself into the room. He looks nice this morning, his hair brushed back and tied into a ponytail with a black ribbon that Ulquiorra recognizes as belonging to Orihime. For just a moment, Ichigo studies him, his eyes flicking down to the bandage and back up, and Ulquiorra can see the way his ears twitch, his tail swishing behind him.

He sets his coffee cup down carefully but pointedly on the table, turning to look up at Ichigo. That seals the deal; Ichigo pounces on him, pinning him into the corner of the couch with nothing but the warm weight of his body. He’s still too slight, too skinny, but Ulquiorra will fix that once Ichigo comes to live with him properly.

“Oh man, you smell so good.” Ichigo shoves his nose into Ulquiorra’s hair and Ulquiorra lets him, held in place by Ichigo on top of him, Ichigo’s knees digging into the cushion on either side of his hips, Ichigo’s arms around his shoulders. “How’s the bite feel? Grimm told me he did it. Am I allowed to look at it? I won’t tear the gauze or anything.”

“It feels fine.” Ulquiorra hooks his fingers in the neck of his sweater and draws it down. “And I suppose you can look. Just be careful to put the bandage back.”

Ichigo is gentle as he peels the bandage back to look, and Ulquiorra tilts his head so he can see better, jumping just a little when he feels a hot, wet tongue press down against the bite. Just a few licks, and then Ichigo replaces the bandage, smoothing it back down before shoving his nose into Ulquiorra’s hair once more. When Ulquiorra runs a tentative hand up and down his back, Ichigo purrs and flattens against him.

His purrs are still… Strange. Rusty and wrong-sounding, but Ulquiorra knows now it’s because he just hasn’t had a reason to in years. It’s an unused sound for him now.

“You know, Ulquiorra…” Aizen is quiet until Ulquiorra cranes his neck to look at him, and he can see the humor dancing in Aizen’s eyes. “I can sign a form that will let Ichigo stay a single night at your apartment. It might not seem like much, but—”

“We’ll discuss a time for that, then. We have to focus on Shiro today,” Ulquiorra says.

Ichigo mewls and hugs him tighter, and Ulquiorra lets Ichigo luxuriate in the comfort and warmth of touch that doesn’t harm him. By the time Grimmjow comes back into the office, Ichigo is almost asleep on Ulquiorra’s chest, face tucked up against his neck.

“Does my heart good to see that,” Grimmjow says softly. “Seeing him happy like that.”

Ulquiorra nods; he still remembers the rage trembling through his limbs when he saw the sheer extent of what Ichigo had gone through. A nonviolent person, he wanted to get his hands on everyone who had ever heart the ginger cat so he could pay them back for all of the suffering they put Ichigo through. “He’s very comfortable right now.”

Grimmjow studies their position and then, predictably, wedges himself in between Ulquiorra and the couch, swinging a leg up onto it and then hugging Ulquiorra back against his chest, one arm slipping around Ulquiorra’s waist while the other rests around Ichigo’s shoulders. His purrs are deeper and heavier, vibrating against Ulquiorra’s back, and Ichigo’s purrs pick up in intensity to match his. It’s a very strange sensation to be trapped between two happy, purring cats, but Ulquiorra feels strangely content here.

A human that Ulquiorra recognizes all too well walks in, stopping when his eyes land on the couch. “Oh. My apologies if I’m interrupting something this morning.”

“Not at all, Amagai-san. Ulquiorra is merely spending a moment with his kittens.” Aizen rises quickly and Ulquiorra hides his disapproving frown in Ichigo’s hair. “Shall I go wake Kira for you? I’m certain that he’s probably just sleeping in this morning.”

Ulquiorra pats Ichigo’s shoulder, and Ichigo pouts but shifts off of him. “I’ll get Kira. Why don’t you come have a seat on the couch? Grimmjow, Ichigo, go get Shiro ready.”

He is absolutely sure the disapproval must show in his voice, because Grimmjow catches him by the wrist as soon as the office door shuts. “That the guy adopting Kira?”

“I’ve tried to tell Kira at least three dozen times that there is something I don’t trust about him, but he doesn’t listen to me. I think… I think he just wants to leave.” Ulquiorra tries to quell the unrest that claws at his chest from the inside, but the last thing he wants is Kira ending up in a home not suited for him. “I need to go get him up. Amagai has, unfortunately, come out clean in terms of a background check. Kira will go today.”

Ichigo frowns, taking Ulquiorra by his other hand. “Does Gin know that’s happening?”

“He doesn’t care.” Ulquiorra tips his head back, reminding himself to be  _ fair. _ “I think he’s trying to ignore how much it hurts right now, at least he better be. But he knows. Aizen-san warned him well in advance. Now, I really have to go get Kira up.”

Grimmjow and Ichigo do as he asked, heading down the hallway to get Shiro up and ready, and Ulquiorra turns to venture down the hallway to the room Kira shares with a few other hybrids. To his surprise, Kira is sitting on the edge of his mattress looking  _ exhausted _ but awake, dressed and with his bag sitting at his feet. When he sees Ulquiorra standing in the doorway, he stands and picks his bag up, shouldering it quickly.

As soon as they clear the room, Ulquiorra touches his arm. “Kira, I just… It seems wrong to just let you go without a goodbye party. Or at least having Gin come talk to—”

“Gin doesn’t want to see me right now, and that’s fine.” Kira’s smile is thin but he nods, and his tail gives the faintest wag when Ulquiorra pats him on the head gently. “Thank you, Cifer-san. You’ve been very kind to me ever since I’ve been here. But now it’s time for me to go to my new home. I think it’s going to be a great new start for me.”

“I hope it is.” Ulquiorra feels sentiment crush his chest and leans forward, hugging Kira as tightly as he can. “Let’s go see him, then. He’s waiting in the office for you.”

Amagai Shusuke is, by all rights, an average man with nothing really  _ wrong _ about him. His background check was clean, his house was apparently very nice according to Aizen, and his children were lovely. It should have been a wonderful home for Kira, a chance for him to be swathed in love and affection like he deserved, but there was no ignoring the feeling of wrongness in Ulquiorra’s gut. Something was wrong; he just didn’t know what it  _ was. _

He sees Gin sitting in the living room when they walk past, but though he should be able to hear and smell them, he doesn’t turn to look at them. So be it. If this is how Gin wants to say goodbye to Kira, there is nothing Ulquiorra can do about it. He knows Gin is upset about it, and he knows they had an argument. He just doesn’t know what  _ happened _ between them.

Maybe it was for the best that Kira got out of here, where he was clearly so unhappy. But his new home should be a happy one, and Ulquiorra was sure that was  _ not _ going to happen.

Amagai rises to his feet as soon as Kira steps into the room. “Izuru, good to see you again. You look like you didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“I’m okay.” Kira smiles at him, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We ready to go?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Amagai picks up the file with all of Kira’s personal information in it, tucking it under his arm as he presses his hand into the small of Kira’s back. “There’s some ice on the sidewalk outside, be careful. The kids are excited to have you home.”

There is no mistaking the way Kira’s tail wags at this news. “I’ll be glad to see them again.”

“It’s good that you’ve found a home, Kira.” Aizen rubs his hands over Kira’s ears, and Kira’s tail wags much harder and faster. “We all hope that this is your forever home, of course, and that everything works out for you. You can come back any time to visit, of course.”

Kira nods but says nothing, and Amagai guides him out of the office a moment later.

Ulquiorra turns quickly on heel. “I’m going to go check on Shiro—”

Gin almost hits him in the face with the door on his way in, brushing past Ulquiorra, no doubt to get his hands all over Aizen once more. So be it. Ulquiorra doesn’t have the time to deal with him right now; he had a goal coming to work this morning.

“I don’t  _ want _ to look nice.” It’s the first sentence he hears when he reaches the room the twins share and he squeezes his eyes shut. God damn it, what  _ else _ would go wrong today?

Grimmjow has Shiro sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around Shiro’s entire body, keeping his arms pinned to his side while Orihime brushes his hair, tying it back the same as she had with Ichigo’s, though the ribbon she uses is bright red. He’s dressed, but from the look of the clothes scattered across the ground, he had put up a hell of a fight about getting there. Though Ulquiorra made it clear to him that making a good impression was important in getting adopted, he didn’t seem to like the idea of that.

He knew, in his heart, that this was an unavoidable issue with some hybrids. It had been an issue with Nnoitra initially as well; some hybrids wanted to get adopted but didn’t want to go through with the work necessary to get there because on some level, they didn’t want to leave. Ulquiorra and Aizen treated them all well; some of them were comfortable with that and didn’t want to venture into a new home where that guarantee no longer was.

“I see you’re in a bad mood,” Ulquiorra says, and Shiro scowls at him, kicking a foot out in his direction in annoyance. “Must I remind you again that—”

“No!” Shiro hisses at him, his ears flattening back against his head. “I  _ get _ it. I don’t care.”

Rolling his eyes, Ulquiorra walks across the room to where Ichigo is perched on the desk, running a hand down the side of his face. “I wish he was as agreeable as you are.”

“Yeah.” Ichigo mewls and leans into his touch, and Ulquiorra smiles softly at the sight. He’d worried, when he first saw Ichigo, that they might not be able to save him. “He’s an ass. I won’t let him say anything that’s gonna be offensive, though. I’ll slap him.”

“You’re a good kitty.” Ulquiorra’s hand wanders up to one orange ear, stroking the soft fluffy fur covering it until Ichigo purrs again, tail flicking around behind him.

Despite Shiro trying to fight them every step of the way, they have him dressed and presentable and sitting at the kitchen table within fifteen minutes, silently steaming as he picks at his pastry. Orihime gets a pastry as a reward for her efforts and Ulquiorra thanks her profusely, knowing just how hard it can be to handle Shiro. Just because they’d managed to find someone to adopt him, someone who would neatly fix the problem of the twins being separated, did not mean Shiro was in full agreement about this.

Ichigo still wanted a home. Maybe he wouldn’t have if they’d come here and had no friends, but Grimmjow had given him the hope that maybe he could still have a home where he was loved, something he desperately craved. Shiro didn’t  _ want _ a home. He’d stopped trusting.

Ulquiorra could understand that sentiment. He’d seen Ichigo’s condition, too.

“You smell like him.” Grimmjow fingers the edge of the bandage and Ulquiorra looks up at him, at the way Grimmjow’s eyes seem to burn. “Did he lick it? I can smell him on it.”

“He did,” Ulquiorra says slowly, not sure what hybrid etiquette is concerning these marks. “Does that upset you? I didn’t think you would mind all that much."

Instead of being upset, Grimmjow only smiles, showing his teeth as he leans closer, his voice a soft whisper against Ulquiorra’s ear even though he  _ knows _ Ichigo and Shiro can hear, this close to them. “If I had my way, he’d mark you up on the other side.”

Ichigo’s face is bright red when Grimmjow looks away, his eyes firmly fixed on his pastry. Just in case, Ulquiorra stretches out a hand to rub between his ears, his heart thudding stupidly at the way Ichigo mewls softly and leans up into his touch automatically.

“You can do it if you want,” he says. “But no one is going to pressure you. I promise.”

The way Ichigo studies his face after makes him feel uncomfortably warm, but luckily Aizen walks into the room a moment later, a sheaf of paperwork in one hand and their guest of the morning just behind him.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you have a client, Ulquiorra.” Aizen passes him Shiro’s file.

“Tensa-san, thank you for coming.” Ulquiorra rises immediately to greet his neighbor, relieved that the man agreed to come in at all. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Even in the sharp fluorescent light of the kitchen, Tensa Zangetsu is handsome. Cleaned up with his hair tied back, in a blazer over a soft grey t-shirt, he’s very attractive. Even Grimmjow makes a small noise that Ulquiorra ignores as he moves to shake Tensa’s hand. Everything is going to work out  _ just _ fine as long as this meeting goes down well.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting. Ah, is your shoulder all right?” Tensa frowns at the bandage and Ulquiorra nods quickly.  _ Everyone _ is noticing it.

“I did that.” Grimmjow sounds too proud of himself. “It’s a claiming mark, is all.”

Tensa’s face changes minutely, and Ulquiorra cannot quite pick up the meaning behind it. “I see. Well, show me the cat hybrid you wanted me to meet. You said his name was Shiro?”

“You are  _ fucking _ kidding me.” Of course, Shiro has to  _ immediately _ ruin the atmosphere. “You want me to live with some old man? He’s not gonna be able to keep up with me.”

Ichigo punches his twin in the shoulder. “Stop being rude. You don’t even know him.”

“I’m starting to understand why you profusely apologized for asking me at all.” Tensa steps past him and Ulquiorra turns to watch, mildly horrified as Tensa walks around the table to stand directly next to Shiro, who just twists in his seat to grin up at him.  _ Grin, _ all teeth exposed, eyes fierce, muscles coiled like he wants to pounce. “Ulquiorra told me you were a fighter, but seeing it in your body language is entirely different.”

The comment deflates Shiro, his grin pulling back into a frown, his eyes narrowing as he turns to sit at the table properly and huffs. No one has had to tell him for him to realize that behaving like a fighter and wanting to get adopted don’t go hand in hand, but Shiro had never seemed to care. Seeing him back down at all makes Ulquiorra pause.

Maybe, on some level, he  _ does _ want this to work. Surely he has to realize that the only guaranteed way to make sure that Ichigo is always close to him is to get adopted by someone nearby, and there is no one else. Asking Tensa at all felt absolutely shitty in all ways, selfish and awful, but Ulquiorra needed him. Clearance for three hybrids is difficult.

Tensa sits down in the empty seat next to Shiro, seeming not to notice the low growl that leaves Shiro’s lips. “Is that his file? May I look through it, Ulquiorra?”

“Of course. Coffee?” Ulquiorra hesitates, not sure whether to sit down or not.

“No, I’m fine. Please, sit.” Tensa takes the file Ulquiorra offers him and begins quietly reading through it, his gaze focused on the paperwork in front of him. When Shiro leans over to look down at it himself, Tensa only lifts his head and pointedly looks at him. “If you want to read it, feel free to request that I hand you the papers as I finish them.”

Shiro’s eyes narrow slightly. “You’re mouthy, huh, ossan? I’m not going to ask you anything.”

“He has a name,” Ulquiorra reminds him sternly, but Shiro only gives him a sharp look.

“He’s fine, Ulquiorra. You told me ahead of time that his personality was prickly at best, so I was prepared for it. He’s just fine the way he is.” Tensa’s gaze is still trained on Shiro, who begrudgingly meets his eyes once more. “If you want to read the paperwork, you will ask for it. It’s very simple. You don’t have to show my respect. You merely ask. I don’t want you leaning so close to me when you’ve been nothing but rude in my direction.”

Shiro huffs at him hard enough to blow back a few of the loose strands hanging around Tensa’s face. “Fine. Will you hand me the fucking papers when you’re done with them?”

“Of course.” Tensa returns to reading, and as he finishes each page, he slides it across to Shiro who mostly just seems to glance at them, seemingly disinterested.

Ulquiorra is nervous, which is probably why Grimmjow leans over to start nuzzling his cheek, scooting their chairs together until the wood clacks together. It’s a comforting touch and Ulquiorra leans into it, not ashamed to admit he needs it right now. After all, they need this to work. Ulquiorra highly doubts that anyone else in his neighborhood would be interested in taking in a hybrid who clearly does not want to be taken in.

When Tensa finishes with the paperwork, he stacks it all neatly and sets it back in its file. “How correct are the articles stating that hybrids who have a history of fighting can become more dangerous in a home environment? I’ve seen a few headlines.”

“Hybrids who’ve been put through numerous fights can have… Exaggerated responses to anything they perceive to be putting them in danger.” Ulquiorra says everything very carefully. “That doesn’t mean he’s ever going to harm you, you understand. He might just take things very wrong and become defensive. There’s no correlation between that history and a heightened history of violence. Not that’s ever been proven, anyway.”

Tensa nods thoughtfully. “I didn’t think so. Since these two obviously had an owner before now, as your paperwork states, what happens if that owner comes forward for them?”

“Then we’d go to court and prove that they were abusive. We have detailed medical records for both Shiro and Ichigo that indicate how they were treated, neglected, and abused.” Ulquiorra can see the way Ichigo’s shoulders hunch and stretches out a hand to calm him, rubbing his back in soothing circles. “So it would never end with either of them being returned to their former owner. Such extreme abuse is highly frowned upon.”

“As it should be. No living creature should ever have to live in such a situation. Speaking of these medical records, is he suffering from anything currently debilitating?” Tensa asks.

“Fucking boredom,” Shiro spits out. “Why the hell are you asking him questions instead of me? You’re talking about me like I’m not even in the fucking room. Why is that?”

Ulquiorra clears his throat and Shiro glares at him. “This is just procedure. He’s allowed to ask me any questions he wants to ask. There’s nothing holding you to the truth in our rules where interviews are concerned. I’m contractually bound to be honest with him.”

“So you can lie,” Grimmjow says, “but Ulquiorra can’t. It’s just how the law works.”

Shiro sighs and leans back in his chair, dragging a hand through his ponytail. “Whatever.”

“There is nothing that’s currently debilitating, no,” Ulquiorra answers, surprised that Tensa’s face has remained so neutral during this entire debacle. “He had several infected wounds when he first came here, but I’ve treated all of them, and they’ve healed.”

The memory is not a pleasant one; Tensa winces slightly. “Infections, I see. Is he on any medications that I need to keep track of? Or need to refill at any point in time?”

“No. He’s healthy now. Well…” Ulquiorra shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry. He’s still clearly underweight, but we’re working on that, and he’d probably bulk up much faster in a home environment where he had access to any food he could get his hands on. Cat hybrids are naturally very affectionate, but Shiro only seems to really like any affection that comes from certain friends and his brother. That might take time to foster, or it might never be a factor of his personality. It just depends on how he heals.”

This time, Shiro’s scowl deepens. “I do not need to fucking  _ heal. _ I am completely fine.’

“Maybe a therapist would be best for—” And before Tensan can finish that sentence, Shiro shoves himself up from the table and stalks outside into the backyard.

Ulquiorra pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. He’s a very difficult case.”

“He’s been through a lot of suffering. It’s understandable. From what your paperwork’s said, I’m not allowed to be alone with him without your supervision for our first meeting, so you should follow me out.” Tensa stands, smoothing out the front of his blazer, and turns toward the sliding glass door. Ulquiorra’s heart leaps into his throat, and he hurries after.

Professionally, he would recommend not following Shiro out, especially not into the confined space of the fenced-in backyard. Shiro is pacing through the snow, ignoring the flakes that are spiralling down from the sky, and the pent-up aggression rolling off of him is obvious even from still inside. When they step into the back with him, he openly snarls. It’s sudden enough that Ulquiorra’s eyes widen and he hears a slight yelp behind him, head swiveling to see Ichigo standing in the doorway, about to follow them out.

“Stay inside,” Ulquiorra tells him, unsurprised when Ichigo hesitates. “I’d never let anything happen to Shiro. You know that. You trust me, don’t you? Stay inside.”

“Okay.” Ichigo slides the door shut, and Ulquiorra is dizzy at the trust placed in him.

“I don’t need a fucking  _ therapist. _ ” The word rolls off of Shiro’s tongue like pure venom. “You know what? Maybe my head is fucked up, but some goddamn human ain’t gonna be able to fix it. It’s  _ your _ kind of people that messed me up to begin with. I could have been a normal fucking cat until humans like you fucked me up. And now you wanna  _ fix _ me?”

Tensa studies him for a long moment before speaking. “What makes you think you need to be fixed, Shiro? You’re upset over what happened to you. You suffered. I am not saying that you were damaged, or need to be fixed. Therapists help you learn to heal and cope. I’ve been in therapy before. It’s not a way of saying you’re broken and need to be fixed.”

“Healing isn’t just saying fixed.” Shiro shakes his head. “You’re so full of shit, ossan.”

“No, it’s not. Healing means that you’ve been hurt, and you want to recover from that. Being fixed means that you’re broken. You aren’t broken.” Tensa chuckles a little, and Shiro’s eyes narrow at him. “You’re far from broken, Shiro. Not you.”

Ulquiorra says nothing, watching the two of them interact, though he twitches forward slightly when Shiro stalks up to Tensa, ready to tear the two of them apart the moment he has to. Instead, with one quick jerk, Shiro snaps the elastic band holding Tensa’s hair back, the cold winter air sending it fluttering back away from his face. The closeness makes Ulquiorra’s throat tight with concern. Just because Shiro hasn’t raised a hand to any of the hybrids in the shelter, or to him and Aizen, does not mean he might not in the face of someone who infuriates him enough, and especially a human.

Instead, Shiro merely smirks. “Grimmjow told me you wore your hair down.”

“Perhaps.” Tensa stretches out a hand, slower and more measured, but Shiro does not move even as Tensa unties the ribbon in his hair, tugging it loose. “I was told the same, though.”

The tension in the air fades and Shiro runs a hand through his hair, then plants it on Tensa’s chest. “No therapy. No fucking way. Not with a human, not in a million years. You wanna be all weird about it, then fine. But I’m not talking to one of you.”

“Fair enough. It was only a suggestion. I have no intention of forcing you into anything you don’t agree with.” Tensa inclines his head, and Shiro looks at him once more before pushing past Ulquiorra and heading back inside, only stopping to comfort Ichigo.

Ulquiorra exhales slowly. “You two are going to give me a heart attack. I was worried.”

“Shiro is certainly a very interesting hybrid.” Tensa holds up the hair ribbon, then curls it around his fingers. “Let’s go back inside. I have a few more questions.”

Luckily, there are no more storm-outs during the conversation, and Ulquiorra feels confident enough to sign off on the preliminary paperwork so they can move on to the next step. Shiro makes more snide remarks and  _ refuses _ to drop “ossan” but Tensa seems not to mind it too much; maybe he was serious when he implied he liked Shiro the way he was.

Ichigo brews them tea and then crawls into Ulquiorra’s lap after a while, tucking his head under Ulquiorra’s chin and just napping there, his hand half-curled around Ulquiorra’s throat which makes talking somewhat interesting, though not unpleasant. Especially with the soft way Grimmjow looks at the two of them together. He hasn’t said it, but Ulquiorra thinks there must be some pleasure out of seeing Ichigo take so well to him, like the two halves of Grimmjow’s world are coming together neatly so he can have the best of both.

With the preliminary paperwork signed, Tensa and Shiro are allowed to step off into the living room together to talk one-on-one, and Ichigo blinks himself awake, noticing their absence, and then turns to face Ulquiorra properly, straddling his lap once more. It’s not a wholly unpleasant sensation— Grimmjow does the same, and he’s much larger— but Ulquiorra is… Almost afraid. Hybrids used for breeding are almost always victims of sexual assault, and though he knows casual affection for hybrids is everything from petting to being wrapped around someone like an octopus, he’s afraid he might touch Ichigo somewhere that brings back a bad memory. Even grabbing his wrist too hard might do that.

“Thanks for working so hard to make sure nii-san has a home.” Ichigo’s voice is soft from sleep, though Ulquiorra thinks those slow, languid blinks aren’t because he’s still tired.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. It’s my job.” Ulquiorra touches his face and Ichigo mewls, turning to nose at his fingers. “I just want to make sure he has the right home.”

Ichigo nips at his fingers, his teeth catching on Ulquiorra’s skin for just a moment before he licks gently. “Nah, I’m going to thank you. Because you’re taking care of him even though you don’t have to do it. I wouldn’t say no to you adopting me even if Shiro didn’t end up with your neighbor. I wanna stay with Grimm, and I really wanna stay with you.”

“I’ll do right by you.” Ulquiorra brushes his thumb over Ichigo’s bottom lip. “We’ll do everything to make sure you get to have a long and happy life.”

“I know you will. I’ve been here, seeing how everyone always greets you with smiles. Everyone’s so happy with you. Every hybrid here adores you. I mean, except Nnoitra, but it’s even because of you that he got to meet Tesla.” Ichigo leans in and Ulquiorra waits, unsurprised when Ichigo’s tongue drags against the side of his neck not far from the bandage. “Grimmjow adores you. He’s so happy. He talks about you to me, tells me about the things you’ve done for him. Even if you think it’s small, or insignificant… When you’ve got nothing, someone willing to come along and give you everything means a lot.”

Ulquiorra swallows hard. “Shiro said you weren’t talking when I first spoke to him. And yet you spoke to me. You asked me not to leave. I never understood why.”

“You know, I was out of it at the police station. On the ride over. But like, I was still there. I still heard how you talked, how upset you were. I could still tell how good Grimmjow smelled, how you never took that anger out on him.” Ichigo huffs softly against his throat and then nuzzles in tenderly. “You were so careful when you touched me. It would’ve been so easy to hurt me, just prod one of those bruises the wrong way. But you touched my back and washed it and I didn’t feel any pain. No one’s ever been so careful of me.”

“You were hurt. How could I not be careful?” The words come out unsteady, but Ulquiorra manages to blink until his eyes are dry. He will  _ not _ be emotional, not now. Ichigo needs him to be strong, and he can do that until he goes home tonight.

Ichigo nips at his throat. “No one’s ever been careful with me, Ulquiorra. Not even when I was a kit. Not a single human’s ever been kind to me, not unless they wanted something. You didn’t. I get it’s your job, but it wasn’t. You weren’t… You can see it in nurses and stuff, when they get numb from it. But you weren’t numb. You were present the whole time and I just… I wanted you to stay. I trusted you. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Grimmjow makes a noise and Ulquiorra glances at him, and his heart rockets through his ribcage when he sees the tears glittering in Grimmjow’s eyes slowly spill over his cheeks. Without hesitation, he reaches up to touch Grimmjow’s face, letting him cuddle in place, tuck himself in tight until there’s nothing but warmth and comfort. Ichigo mewls at him and Grimmjow mewls back, though it’s a wet and watery sound, and Ulquiorra pets them both and knows in his heart that if he ever fucks this up, he’ll never forgive himself for it.

“Sorry.” Grimmjow sniffles pitifully and Ulquiorra presses his cheek against the top of Grimmjow’s head. “Just, I guess I’m emotional. A lot of shit has gone down in my life, and in his, and it’s just… I never thought things would be this good for us ever again.”

Ulquiorra nods, petting down his cheek. “I know, baby. I know.”

He doesn’t realize Ichigo is moving until he does, until soft, hesitant lips press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And it’s ‘cause of you. Don’t ever forget about that.”

“I’m not going to because it keeps me in check and reminds me that I have two very important kittens to take care of.” And when Ichigo flattens down against him once more, Ulquiorra wraps an arm around his shoulders, the other one already occupied with Grimmjow wrapped around it. “I’m going to make sure both of you  _ stay _ happy.”

When Tensa and Shiro step back into the room, Shiro looks… Marginally less aggravated than he did a moment ago. At the very least, he drags over the paperwork he’s supposed to sign off of and does it in quick, jagged motions. “Guess he’ll do for the time being.”

Christ. So this is where they’re at. “Tensa-san, let me escort you—”

“You’re not going to bother either of your cats just to walk me out the door. I know where it is.” The expression on the man’s face is sincere. “You can choose when to come look over my house. My phone number is on the phone, just call to set up a time. Or walk across the yard, I don’t mind your company. After that’s passed, I sign the final forms, yes?”

“Yes.” Ulquiorra nods. “And then we’ll arrange a date for you to pick Shiro up, so that there’s time for those to be notarized. There’s also a form we can sign that would allow him to come visit for a night if you two want to—”

“No,” Shiro says immediately. “I’ll go to his house when it’s permanent. Ain’t no reason to arrange a sleepover. You better not be getting handsy with my brother.”

“You can see both of my hands,” Ulquiorra mutters, then turns to Tensa once more. “I’ll contact you after this paperwork processes. Thank you, again, for doing this.”

Tensa shakes his head. “I understand the completely valid feeling of wanting to keep Shiro and Ichigo together considering their pasts, and maybe your assertion that I could use some company isn’t entirely unfounded. We’ll see how everything works out. As long as he behaves himself, I don’t see any reason why he can’t stay in my home.”

“Behave myself,” Shiro mutters, but he doesn’t press the point and only smiles thinly, dropping back down into his chair. Evidently, he’s not going to show Tensa out, either.

The man makes his departure from the room and Ulquiorra fixes Shiro with a stern look. “You shouldn’t mess this up for yourself. That’s a guaranteed adoption, and you’d be right next door. You could come over whenever you wanted to. I wouldn’t stop you.”

Shiro clicks his tongue. “Asking me to move in with an old man, huh. You drive a hard bargain. But whatever. If it’s for Ichi’s sake, I’ll do it.”

That… Will have to be good enough for the time being, Ulquiorra supposes.

If they can make this one last part of the plan work, everything should be fine. The twins will have good homes, will be close to each other, and will be happy.

Now, all Ulquiorra has to do is make sure Ichigo gets home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is 7600 words FOR NO REASON EVEN


	20. Chapter 20

When it comes to a cleaning frenzy, Ulquiorra could put anyone to shame.

Despite Grimmjow’s assistance he can do any shoveling that is necessary, Ulquiorra is up early and already has the driveway and the sidewalk in front of their apartment shoveled off by the time Grimmjow rolls out of bed and comes looking for him. A glance out the window shows him that Ulquiorra is standing just at the property line talking to Tensa, so Grimmjow leaves them to that and takes a shower instead, letting the hot water pour down his body for perhaps longer than he should. But today is supposed to be a cold day and he can feel it in his bones, his ears twitching faintly as he picks up the wind outside. It’s harsh, but they have a day off today and have a lot to do inside.

He thinks trying to do everything in a single day is probably not the best way to go about things, but he’s never had to keep an entire house clean before. That was not what kind of hybrid he was kept as, after all. And when he steps out of the bathroom, skin still warm and flushed from the shower and freshly dressed, he finds the entire living room has been properly swept and dusted, everything carefully arranged. When did Ulquiorra do this?

“Good morning, Grimmjow.” The sound of Ulquiorra’s voice has his head swiveling to see Ulquiorra plumping up a small decorative pillow he sits down in a chair. “How did you sleep? I hope I didn’t disturb you while I was getting dressed this morning.”

Grimmjow shakes his head. “You didn’t. I didn’t even realize you were doing anything.”

“That’s good.” Ulquiorra’s smile is soft and fond, and Grimmjow’s eyes pick out the shape of the bandage visible just beside the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, wait a minute.” Grimmjow has to move fast to snag him by the arm before he wanders off into the kitchen, fingers moving to smooth the bandage back so he can look at the bite beneath. “It looks a lot better than it did. How is it feeling?”

Ulquiorra is quiet for a moment. “I took a painkiller for it this morning because I knew I’d be doing plenty of physical labor today. But I promise you the strain is not so great.”

The soft tone of his voice clearly says that he doesn’t want Grimmjow to worry about it or him, but it isn’t like Grimmjow can just turn that off. Far from it, actually. He still swipes his tongue over it a few times to be sure, not wanting it to cause Ulquiorra any pain once the medicine he took wears off and the soreness tries to return. At least none of his skin is inflamed or red, so there is no infection or true discomfort to worry about.

“Thank you.” Ulquiorra leans up to kiss him before Grimmjow can offer up a reply, so he settles for mewling softly as he leans into Ulquiorra’s lips, cupping a hand around the back of his neck and just enjoying how close he is, how close Grimmjow is allowed to be.

He wants to help with breakfast, but Ulquiorra insists he just needs to sit down and wait while Ulquiorra moves across the kitchen in slow, fluid movements. The scent of eggs and sausage fills the air and Grimmjow purrs as he sniffs the air, laughing when Ulquiorra only shakes his head at him before turning his attention back to the stove. Though Ulquiorra is quite accomplished at cooking for two, the thought that he’d been cooking for himself for most of the time Grimmjow has known him makes his stomach feel funny.

Ulquiorra was probably far from lonely; people who choose to live alone like the quiet, after all, but hybrids are social creatures and Grimmjow can’t imagine living all alone. Even on the streets, there were other hybrids to talk to, and it was hardly ever quiet.

The table is set with rolled omelettes, sausage, white rice, and miso soup. Everything smells wonderful and it’s all very warm food, too. They talk while they eat, just about smaller and less severe topics. The snow, the weather, what rooms are left in the house to clean up. Grimmjow’s room has to be the most proper-looking since that’s the room Ichigo is going to be staying in while he’s living with them. At least, _ officially _ and on paper.

Grimmjow is not delusional about this. “You know how fast he’s gonna climb into bed with you if he sees me doing it? Is your bed actually big enough for three people?”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but it should be. I don’t take up much room.” Ulquiorra pokes at his own stomach with his chopsticks. “And neither does he, so I think we’ll be fine. I just… Don’t want to scare him, or anything. The data we have about hybrids who were forced into breeding is that most of them were sexually assaulted at least once.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I don’t. I mean, I don’t ask because that seems like a shitty thing to just ask him, but yeah, I get the feeling something like that happened with him.” Grimmjow stuffs rice into his mouth before he risks losing his appetite. He needs the energy to clean.

Ulquiorra pats him on the arm. “We’ll do what we can for him, and if he decides he wants to speak to a professional about what happened, I’ll arrange that for him.”

That makes Grimmjow feel somewhat better. “Thanks. I mean… I guess I don’t have to thank you, you’ve told me before that I don’t. It’s just second nature at this point.”

“I’m sure you don’t realize this, kitten, because why would you?” Ulquiorra taps him on the cheek. “What you keep thanking me for are just… It’s human decency. It’s what anyone  _ should _ do. It might not be what everyone does, but it’s what they should do.”

“How do you decide what someone  _ should _ do?” Grimmjow asks him. “All the humans I’ve ever known were cruel. Even those who weren’t trying to beat me or use me still treated me like I was nothing more than a common housepet. Why was it like that?”

Ulquiorra is quiet for a moment before he sighs soft. “Rich people are rarely, if at ever, actually good people. When you’re born into that much money, or you work your way up to it… A lot of rich people even see poor humans as less than human. I can’t imagine how much worse it is when you think you can own something alive, body and soul.”

Grimmjow raises an eyebrow at him. “How do you think of me, then, if not ownership? I know you don’t look at me like they do. But what’s the difference in it for you?”

“Ownership is maybe how it’s defined by society, but to me, I just wanted to do what was needed to give you a home and make sure you were happy.” Ulquiorra’s voice is soft, hesitant. Vulnerable. “I don’t see you as an object, or a pet. You have cat-like characteristics, but I see you as my friend, and maybe my partner, if you’re comfortable with such a title. Of course you’re my kitten, but that’s different.”

“‘Cause it’s a pet name,” Grimmjow ventures, satisfied when Ulquiorra nods. “Y’know, I kinda like it. Like, you don’t say it to be mean. It’s kinda nice to hear you say it, too.”

Ulquiorra chuckles softly. “And if it ever stops being nice to hear, you’ll tell me, I’d hope? And I’ll stop saying it. Ultimately, I care about you, and I want you to be happy. This is just how I can help you be happy. If there was a different way to do it, I would pursue that. And if you ever think that there’s more I can do, just let me know.”

They finish breakfast and he helps Ulquiorra load the dishwasher before he’s pushed off to his room to start cleaning it. The space itself is clean because Grimmjow isn’t an animal, but he dusts and vacuums just the same, pulling the sheets off the bed to remake it with fresh ones. Everything dirty goes in the laundry room, which he is not allowed to touch because Ulquiorra is very stern about the laundry and doing it himself. As if Grimmjow is going to argue to do more  _ chores. _

By the time his room is done, Ulquiorra has already cleaned the bathroom and then furiously washed his hands and wiped up his arms to ensure none of the cleaner lingers on his skin. It smells like citrus and Grimmjow winces, fanning his nose as he quickly moves past the bathroom and back down to the living room, which is already done.

Was his room supposed to take him all day? He isn’t sure about that.

When Ulquiorra’s phone starts ringing, Ulquiorra darts past him to answer it, holding it up to his ear. “Tensa-san, how can I— Ah, yes, I see. I’ll get my checklist and be right over.”

“Checklist?” Grimmjow asks him, watching as Ulquiorra disappears into the laundry room.

When he emerges, he points one finger at Grimmjow’s chest. “Move the laundry from the washer to the dryer. I have to go look over Tensa-san’s apartment now so I can approve it for Shiro. I already set the dryer, you just have to start it—”

“I want to come,” Grimmjow says, and Ulquiorra frowns at him. “What? I’ve never seen the inside of his house before, and I want to. That’s fine, isn’t it?”

Ulquiorra hums thoughtfully. “I suppose so. Switch the laundry over while I get the list.”

The list, as it turns out, is several pages of information that has Grimmjow blanching at the sight of; Ulquiorra has already gone through this once before? It takes this much just to have a hybrid live in the same house? He knew the restrictions must have been serious if it came down to having homes inspected before they were deemed safe, but it seems like more than he would have thought of. He picks up a pen from the basket next to the microwave and tucks it behind Ulquiorra’s ear, grinning when Ulquiorra flushes faintly.

The weather is sharply cold outside, but Tensa is there to open the door for them as soon as Ulquiorra knocks, so they don’t have to stand in it. “Hello, Grimmjow.”

“Hi.” Grimmjow waves a hand at him, leaving his boots at the door and trading them for slippers like Ulquiorra does. “It smells really nice in here. What is that?”

“Hot chocolate. I was going to offer Ulquiorra some for being willing to come out in this weather, but there’s more than enough for you, too.” Tensa gestures for him to follow. “Ulquiorra, you can look over whatever you want to while I pour some for you both.”

Grimmjow gives Ulquiorra a parting lick on the cheek while he starts walking around the living room, making notes on the list in his hands. The whole apartment is wonderfully warm and the space is homey, something Grimmjow would honestly have expected from someone Tensa’s age— It just seems to be a thing amongst older humans, though he hardly understands it himself. But he gets to sit down at the kitchen table, fingers brushing over the dark wooden grain, while Tensa busies himself.

“Do you think things went fine with your friend, Shiro?” Tensa asks him, not quite looking over his shoulder. “You know him better than I do, so you can answer better than I can.”

Grimmjow stares at his back and wonders how to answer that question. “I think they went as well as they could have? I mean, yeah, he got mad a few times, but that’s not unusual behavior for him, so I wouldn’t be worried about it. I mean, Ulquiorra said he took your hair down, right? So that’s a somewhat intimate touch. A step in the right direction.”

“If I’d known the comment about therapy was going to upset him, I probably wouldn’t have made it.” Tensa shrugs, and Grimmjow understands. What’s done is done.

“I think he’ll figure out this is all for his own good once he actually moves in and gets to realize that living with a human is nicer than it has any right to be.” Grimmjow perks up when Tensa brings him a mug of hot chocolate, wrapping his hands around it. “Like this.”

Tensa’s hand drops heavy between his ears and Grimmjow pushes up into it on instinct alone; touch is good. Human touch turning out to be surprisingly good is just a bonus. “I hope he’s going to figure it out. I don’t need him to be as cute and cuddly as you are, I just don’t want him to snap at me every time I so much as glance in his direction.”

“Might take some time for him to warm up that much,” Grimmjow admits.

The man chuckles softly and strokes his hair before leaving him alone to his hot chocolate; the texture is thicker than Grimmjow is used to, and sweet, and he finds himself purring as he sips it. It’s just warm enough to be pleasant without being hot enough to burn his tongue and throat. By the time Ulquiorra joins them, Grimmjow is on his second mug shamelessly, and the expression in Ulquiorra’s eyes is just so helplessly fond.

“You are so sweet.” Ulquiorra leans over him, lips pressing a kiss to one of Grimmjow’s ears. “I hope you’re enjoying the hot chocolate, kitten. We’ll have to make some back at home.”

Tensa sits another mug down at the table. “Please, help yourself Ulquiorra. How did my place do when it comes to inspection? Or did you just come to check the kitchen?”

“It’s the last room I have to look at,” Ulquiorra admits. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be done soon.”

Though Grimmjow has seen Ulquiorra at work several times before, this is the first time he’s ever seen him look over someone’s house before. Everything is very efficient, his eyes steady as he inspects the appliances and what appears to be the outlets, too. Once he finishes, he sits down at the kitchen table and takes a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Your apartment passes inspection,” Ulquiorra says. “Did you hide the kitchen knives on purpose, or do you always keep them tucked away in the bottom drawer?”

Tensa chuckles softly. “He has claws. I’m sure he won’t want to use a kitchen knife.”

“You may be right as far as that goes. That being said, you’re fine. In fact, you rate higher on a lot of things than most people do.” Ulquiorra signs the bottom of the paperwork, dating a few pages as well. “So you have final paperwork to sign from there. Shiro’s already signed off, so we don’t need anything else from him. But Aizen-san is very firm that Shiro should talk to at least one therapist. It’s important for hybrids who are still recovering from extreme levels of trauma. And he might fight us on that.”

Grimmjow cocks his head. “Why didn’t I have to do it? You just got to take me home.”

“You were well-adjusted enough that you were living harmoniously with the rest of our hybrids without any issues. The same can’t really be said for Shiro.” Ulquiorra shrugs a shoulder. “There are different protocols depending on who it is. Nnoitra needs to see a medical doctor before we can safely clear him to make sure the area where his venom sacs were removed healed properly. His behavioral issues mean he has to talk to a therapist, too. While we want to find hybrids the right homes that will help them flourish and find happiness, we have to be careful that we don’t end up pairing a human and a hybrid who can’t get along in the long-run because that could result in serious repercussions.”

Tensa’s expression is pinched. “That’s a lot more than I expected, but I suppose it makes sense. Hopefully this doesn’t just succeed in pissing him off more than he’s already mad.”

“He’ll come around,” Grimmjow swears. “He’ll do it for Ichigo. You’ll see for yourselves.”

And if he doesn’t, Grimmjow is going to sit him down and  _ remind him _ that if he cares about Ichigo’s happiness more than anything else, he is going to suck it up.

Ulquiorra takes him home after another fifteen minutes or so, and Grimmjow makes himself a bed on the couch and turns on the television to pass the time until Aizen comes to look over the apartment. He gets dragged off into the kitchen for lunch, and then he drags Ulquiorra back into the living room with him, letting Ulquiorra curl up on his chest and rest while the wait. He could use the sleep; he’s been having some restless nights lately, nights where Grimmjow ends up wrapped entirely around him to keep him still.

So he’s only been taking an occasional nap or two in his own bedroom. So what of it?

“What are you staring at?” Ulquiorra asks him after a moment, and Grimmjow blinks when he realizes his gaze has been focused on Ulquiorra for an extended period of time. “You sure you don’t want to go upstairs and take a proper nap, kitten?”

Grimmjow shakes his head, tucking his face in Ulquiorra’s hair. “‘M good right here.”

Like he wants to be asleep when Aizen comes over to look at the apartment.

Aizen comes over late in the evening when his shift at the shelter should be over. “Sorry to keep you two waiting for so long. We had a few people come in today so I’ve been up to my elbows in paperwork. Tesla will have it all sorted for you by morning, Ulquiorra.”

“It’s not a problem, Aizen-san.” Ulquiorra has to pull himself up off of Grimmjow’s chest, and Grimmjow makes only a small token noise up at him to try to get him to stay. “I’ll review what I saw in Tensa-san’s apartment while you do, I think.”

“That would be lovely. You’ve always been so efficient, Ulquiorra,” Aizen says.

Grimmjow watches them for a moment before he pushes himself up and heads to the kitchen for something to drink, picking out a can of soda and carrying it back to the living room. While he should be relaxed— Ulquiorra had been very thorough in cleaning the apartment and he’d given Grimmjow praise for his bedroom— he still finds himself nervous. What if Ichigo can’t live with them? What if Aizen’s ruling is that their home is not suitable for taking in someone else? Grimmjow doesn’t want to think about that.

If Ichigo is going to live with anyone, it should be them. He should get to stay with them because that’s what they want, and that’s what he wants. And it isn’t like anyone could take better care of him than Grimmjow knows he can.

“This was all really just for the sake of filling out the paperwork. Of course, Ulquiorra, your home is fine.” Aizen’s voice carries down the hallway and Grimmjow sits up as soon as they walk back into the room. “I also came over to tell you in person that the preliminary paperwork passed. Your work at the shelter speaks for you, you know.”

Ulquiorra looks visibly relieved. “I’m glad to hear that. What else do I have to fill out?”

“Well, as I told you before, Ichigo needs to sit down and have a thorough discussion with a therapist. It’s their responsibility to decide if he should be able to leave the shelter from there.” Aizen sits down in one of the chairs and Ulquiorra takes the other end of the couch; Grimmjow immediately scoots in close to him. “And then you’ll sit down with them and discuss an action plan for making sure Ichigo gets the help he needs.”

Grimmjow clears his throat. “Not to act like this is too easy, but this doesn’t seem much different from the process we had to go through for him to adopt me.”

“This is only the first part of the process,” Aizen tells him, and Grimmjow frowns. “Once the therapy meetings are completed, Ulquiorra’s and Ichigo’s responses are going to be reviewed. If they’re satisfactory, there’s going to be another home visit that involves Ichigo spending some time here. They want to see how the two of you interact with each other and ensure that you two can get along no matter what.”

“If you two didn’t get along, then they wouldn’t want Ichigo to stay here,” Ulquiorra says. “And to my understanding, after that, you’ll be taken out of the apartment for a while and Ichigo will just spend time with me. You can stay with Nel, if you’d like. She already offered to let you come hang out at her place if you wanted to.”

Grimmjow perks up. “I liked Nel. She gave really great ear rubs. You sure she’s fine?”

“Yes. She offered, and I’m going to call her again just to make sure.” Ulquiorra pets his cheek and Grimmjow giggles, nuzzling into the palm of his hand. “Based on how those go, they’ll compile a final report. And if that goes well, I can file for adoption officially.”

Aizen smiles slightly. “It’s a long process, but it should be fine. Ichigo’s going to need a lot of help, but I know the two of you can help him get through it. I’m going to make sure that you have the best chance possible to get him home.”

Aizen leaves after about an hour during which Ulquiorra has to fill out even more paperwork, and even Grimmjow has to sit down and fill out a few things himself. Mostly, it just comes down to agreeing that he wants Ichigo to come to the house and is willing to share his bedroom with him without feeling pushed out of his own personal space. A lot of this probably comes down to the idea that hybrids like to socialize, but humans don’t understand it nearly as well, so they have to sign off on it.

Ulquiorra sends Aizen on his way with the paperwork from Tensa’s apartment and as soon as the door is shut and Ulquiorra sits back down on the couch, Grimmjow climbs on top of him. “You’re working so hard to get him home. I’m so fucking amazed by you.”

“When I told you I’d do what had to be done, I meant it.” Ulquiorra pecks him on the lips and Grimmjow growls softly, nipping at his lower lip. “What was that sound for?”

Instead of replying, Grimmjow palms Ulquiorra’s hips and presses him back down on the couch, crawling on top of him. “I know you don’t want me doing anything for you because I feel like I owe you. ‘Cause of my past. What about me wanting to do something for you because I want to show my appreciation for you as a person?”

“Oh.” Ulquiorra blinks up at him, letting Grimmjow take his wrists and pin them above his head without any struggle. “That would be fine as long as you’re certain that’s why you’re doing it. I know that you’re happy with me for helping Ichigo, but you shouldn’t want to do anything sexual with me sheerly because of that. It’d make me uncomfortable.”

“I can understand that. I just wanna give you something because you’ve worked so hard today, and I’m really into that.” When he licks Ulquiorra’s throat, Ulquiorra moans softly.

His skin tastes clean and is warm, heating up nicely under Grimmjow’s lips and tongue. He’s kissed Ulquiorra’s body enough to know how well his skin responds to touch, how he heats up and flushes pretty reds and pinks like a bouquet of flowers. Under the pressure of teeth and suction, his skin picks up marks and bruises all too well. Grimmjow loves it; the sight of Ulquiorra’s skin marked from his own touch excites him and the way Ulquiorra responds, soft little moans and shivers, fingers combing through Grimmjow’s hair, is even better. He  _ wants _ to be touched, and Grimmjow can’t get his hands off of him.

“That would be okay.” Ulquiorra’s fingers tug gently at his hair and Grimmjow smiles softly down at him, fingers slipping under the bottom of his shirt. “Grimmjow…”

Slowly, Grimmjow slides down the length of Ulquiorra’s body, pushing his shirt up, pressing a kiss to his pale stomach. He can see the pale blue veins beneath the soft skin and drags his tongue over them, thinking that even though humans typically have the power play advantage in life, Ulquiorra seems so vulnerable like this. Letting Grimmjow’s mouth so close to a delicate and important part of his body is an interesting choice. Among most hybrids, showing someone your stomach is a sign of submission but also of trust. Does Ulquiorra have any idea what kind of symbolism this implies?

_ It’s the second time he’s let this exact thing happen, too. _

After leaving a small red mark on Grimmjow’s stomach, he pops the button on Ulquiorra’s jeans and drags the zipper down with his teeth. “Is it okay if I suck your cock?”

“What?” Ulquiorra lifts his head, his eyes warm and his gaze blurry. “You want to?”

“I just said that. I want to suck your cock, Ulquiorra.” Grimmjow pulls the front of his jeans open, nuzzling at his groin through the soft thin fabric of his boxers. He can feel Ulquiorra swelling under his reactions and grins, running the tip of his tongue along the growing bulge. “I want you to come in my mouth. Does that work for you?”

Ulquiorra wheezes softly and nods. “Yes, it does, and  _ please. _ I’d really enjoy that.”

Grimmjow doesn’t have to wholly undress him. Instead, he hauls his jeans and boxers down enough to free his cock, wrapping his hand around the weight of Ulquiorra’s shaft, running his tongue over the glans. He tastes good and smells better, Ulquiorra’s own soft human scent and his mounting arousal. When Grimmjow takes him into his mouth, he rolls his tongue around Ulquiorra’s shaft, teasing the tip of his tongue along the vein on the underside. He can feel it pulsing and shivers at how that feels.

He has to hold Ulquiorra’s hips down to keep him still and wonders when the last time was that he was intimate with someone. There’s something almost desperate about the way his hips keep jumping up, soft little noises leaving his throat. The hand in Grimmjow’s hair spasms and he whines and moans pitifully, a soft swear mixed in here or there. When he tries to arch up into Grimmjow’s mouth, Grimmjow tightens his grip on Ulquiorra’s hips once more and swallows around him, grinning when Ulquiorra cries out softly above him.

“You taste so good.” Grimmjow lets him go so he can lick a stripe up his cock, sucking on just the tip until he watches Ulquiorra push his head back into the cushion. “I bet you’re going to come fast. How long’s it been since you were with someone?”

Chest heaving, Ulquiorra looks down at him. “I don’t know. Was married to my work before you. Or just too lazy to use dating apps, I don’t know. What are you—”

“Poor Quiorra.” Grimmjow wraps a hand around Ulquiorra’s cock, stroking along the slick length of his cock before his tongue trails down to Ulquiorra’s balls. “I’ll take care of you.”

He swallows him back down when he’s sure he’s tortured him enough, taking Ulquiorra to the back of his throat in one fluid motion. To say he has experience in this area would be putting it lightly, but everything with Ulquiorra is so enjoyable, so much more exciting to hear his soft little noises, the moment when he gets loud. The way he groans when Grimmjow hums around him, the way he cries out when Grimmjow teases just the head of his cock with the tip of his tongue and makes him tremble.

When he comes, Grimmjow swallows, holding him down even as Ulquiorra’s back arches off of the couch. He falls back against it with a muted little noise and Grimmjow grins at him, licking him clean before tucking him back into his pants.

“That’s the second time you’ve mauled me,” Ulquiorra murmurs. “I thought that the way Gin acted was peculiar, but I never imagined that would be normal.”

Laughing, Grimmjow nuzzles into Ulquiorra’s stomach once more. “Nah, that’s not what’s going on with Gin at all. When Gin’s like that, he’s just… Experiencing the urge to mate. Some hybrids do, some don’t. Nnoitra does, I do, probably Kira and other dog hybrids do as well. Not all hybrids do, though. You haven’t seen me like that yet.”

“You’re telling me that you’re going to get ridiculously horny and pin me down and ravage me every so often.” Ulquiorra looks thoughtful. “I suppose I don’t mind that too much.”

“I didn’t think you were going to.” Grimmjow looks up at him, at the soft green eyes now leveled with Grimmjow’s own. “I’ll always make it good for you, though.”

By the time Ulquiorra crawls out from underneath him, Grimmjow is half-asleep and soaking in his body heat. Grimmjow only lets him go because he doesn’t want to get up himself, and the smell of dinner eventually has him up and moving despite himself. He pulls Ulquiorra into his lap as soon as he’s done, nuzzling into the side of his neck.

“Upstairs, to bed,” Ulquiorra murmurs. “I want to repay you for that blowjob.”

Grimmjow throws Ulquiorra over his shoulder and carries him the rest of the way while Ulquiorra slaps him on the back and demands to be set down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of conversations that have needed to happen~ we're getting into more serious stuff soon though so be ready for that. what ichigo went through wasn't pretty and i'm not going to romanticize it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **big warnings for this chapter:** extreme mentions of child abuse, child grooming, sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse and manipulation and gaslighting

The therapist is named Unohana Retsu; she introduces herself just inside of the doorway, clasping both of Ulquiorra’s hands in her own before brushing past him to greet Grimmjow with a long, thorough rub of his ears. Grimmjow purrs and mewls and in general shows off, and Ulquiorra tries not to roll his eyes at the sight as he shifts nervously from foot to foot. Securing Unohana to come see Shiro and Ichigo today was difficult, but it was necessary. They had at least been able to exploit a loophole that would allow the twins to stay together and do the interview at once instead of separately, something that terrified Ichigo. The last thing he wanted to do was relive his experiences alone.

Ulquiorra clears his throat quickly. “They’re waiting in their bedroom. Ichigo doesn’t want to leave it. He says he feels safest there, so I didn’t try to push him on that.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Unohana says easily, peeking into the kitchen. “His comfort should be of our utmost concern here. Hybrids who have been through sexual assault suffer greatly, and the last thing I would want is to unsettle him more than this conversation will.”

Grimmjow nudges Ulquiorra’s shoulder. “Does she have to talk to Nnoitra, too?”

“Yes,” Ulquiorra admits, and Grimmjow frowns at him, clearly displeased. “Tesla is coming in about half an hour to assist him through that. It was Nnoitra’s only concern.”

Unohana pats Grimmjow gently on the cheek. “No worries. Ulquiorra has expressed that all of them are friends of yours, and I have every intention of being as sensitive about what they have been through as possible. I’m here to help, not to make things worse.”

Ulquiorra peeks into the living room quickly, expecting to see Nnoitra napping in his nest, but the nest is empty and he sighs softly, knowing that Nnoitra is most likely sulking in his room and waiting for Tesla to come so they can get this over with as quickly as possible. So be it; he has to do what is right for him, and Ulquiorra would rather have him tucking his foul mood away into a room instead of taking it out on the other hybrids here. He can hardly imagine it’s going to be easy when he needs to sit down and talk to Unohana, but at least his medical reports had come back without any worrying information attached.

Well, no more than usual. Ulquiorra excused himself to the bathroom to dry heave only once when he’d read that though there was no permanent damage from the abrupt surgery, the incisions could have been better. Had they been much deeper, it was very likely Nnoitra’s vocal cords could have been severed. He might not like the way Nnoitra talks to everyone here, but the thought of him not being able to talk at all was awful.

However, he should check on him, so he leaves Unohana in the hallway for just a moment, knocking before letting himself into Nnoitra’s room. “Are you okay, Nnoitra?”

The sight of the bump on the bed reassures him. “I don’t wanna fucking do it.”

“I know.” Ulquiorra leaves the door open and walks into the room, resting a hand on what he thinks is Nnoitra’s shoulder. “Tesla will come to support you, though, remember?”

Nnoitra makes a vague hissing noise but doesn’t try to swat Ulquiorra’s hand away, which is an improvement at least. “I know that. I still hate it. Don’t wanna fucking talk about what I went through. Can’t change any of it, and it’s over now. I just want to forget it.”

“I don’t blame you, but it’s the last thing that you have to do to go home with Tesla.” At that, the blanket shifts, Nnoitra peeking up at him with one eye. “You heard me. You can stay in here and Unohana can come into your room to talk to you once Tesla is here, and then that’s the last thing you have to do. As long as you pass, you can stay with him.”

Sighing, Nnoitra lays his head back down on the pillow. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind, I guess. Go on, now, it’s the twins’ turn and I don’t wanna wait all day for this.”

Ulquiorra leaves him to rest and takes Unohana down the hallway to the twin’s room, unsurprised to find them sitting on Ichigo’s bunk and holding hands. Even without having spoken to either of them yet today, he can tell Ichigo’s morning has been a bad one. His eyes are red-rimmed and wet, his lower lip quivering as he squeezes Shiro’s pale hand. In answer, his twin grooms one of his ears, but Ulquiorra can tell how nervous the affection is, how even Shiro is keyed up for this. He knew it would be this way, but still.

Seeing them like this makes Ulquiorra’s chest tight. Grimmjow huffs into his hair.

“It’s nice to meet the two of you finally.” Unohana lets herself into the room, having to change hands to shake both of theirs because they refuse to let go of each other. “I see what Ulquiorra meant when he said you were twins but didn’t quite look it. Hybrid coloring is so interesting. Shall we start with your general backgrounds?”

Shiro heaves a breath. “Yeah, I guess. Sit down. It’s a long story.”

Unohana takes a seat in the chair and Ulquiorra and Grimmjow sit on the desk together, wanting to give them as much space as possible even as the two of them are in the room with them. This is what they have to do to make sure it works; just before Unohana opens her mouth, though, Aizen appears in the doorway, an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, and then steps aside. “Zangetsu-san came and said he wanted to be present for this therapy session. The paperwork has continued to pass, so I let him.”

Tensa nods to Ulquiorra as he walks in, leaning against the wall just beside the door. “Sorry to interrupt, I only just got the phone call.”

Shiro eyes him warily. “So you showed up to hear me spill my guts after all, ossan?”

“I’m here in case you decide you want my emotional support,” Tensa says smoothly.

“You really think I’d ever want anything but—” Shiro stops himself, waving a hand in front of his own face. “No, whatever, fine. Do what you want. Just shut up and stand here.”

Unohana raises an eyebrow. “Are you always so short when it comes to speaking to him?”

Shiro looks at her and for a moment, Ulquiorra thinks he’s going to snap and say something  _ worse _ but instead he tips his head back and exhales slowly. “I’m working on it. All the humans I’ve known in my life up until this point in time have said nice, sugary shit and then they turn around and shove me into a cage and tell me if I can’t claw some dude’s face open, I’m not going to eat. Or I’m gonna get beaten to death. It’s a work in progress.”

“I see.” Unohana picks a clipboard out of her bag, a legal pad already on top of it and a pen clipped to it that she quickly retrieves, hurriedly writing. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? Or as much of it as you can remember.”

“We were bred,” Ichigo says quietly, his head tipped down, his eyes fixed on his lap. “That’s all I know. I remember Mom. We had to stay with her when we were kits because she had to take care of us, but I think we were four when they took us away from her.”

Shiro shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t remember her. Only thing I remember was that I punched Nnoitra in the face because he hissed at me. And that— Oh. Oh, that’s bad.”

Unohana lifts her head. “Did you remember something you would like to share?”

“Nnoitra hissed at me and I punched him in the face, and he bit me. Like, he’s not much older than me, so he was, like, five or six?” Shiro drags a hand down his face. “No. Seven. That was when they had to remove his venom sacs. Because he could have killed me.”

“Nnoitra is the cobra hybrid I’m meant to speak to today?” Unohana asks, and Ichigo gives her a quick nod in answer. “You were just a child, recently taken from your mother. Not remembering it might imply it traumatized you. And you felt threatened. A snake hybrid’s hissing is usually enough to raise a fight or flight response in several hybrids.”

“And I was fight from day one.” Shiro laughs, like this is the punchline to a cosmic joke.

Ulquiorra presses his hand against his mouth, not sure what to say, what to think. Most of this makes perfect sense to him; the life of hybrids is something he knows well. Even though all of the hybrids he’s dealt with before Grimmjow typically came from rather normal households did not mean he had no idea about the richer owners and how they conducted business. He wonders why the children would have grown up together, brows furrowed, but Ichigo answers the question for him before he can wonder.

“Our first owner was the one who raised us all. She was… Stern.” Ichigo presses his knees together; Ulquiorra can see the way his shoulders shudder and jerk. “She wasn’t really an owner in the same way that the others were. When we were being raised, other people bought us. All she did was… Was train us. Teach us how to behave and what to do.”

Shiro curls a hand beneath his chin, staring down at the floor. “Which meant getting beaten if we didn’t behave. I got a lot of ‘em. So did Nnoitra, but he took ‘em for Grimmjow sometimes. He was a tough bastard. I think he had broken ribs.”

“He did,” Grimmjow says, and Ulquiorra bites down hard on his lower lip. “Because of me, he did. He took a punishment ‘cause I broke a vase, and the old bitch broke his ribs.”

“I understand the situation of your childhood,” Unohana says softly, turning her gaze toward the twins once more. “What happened after you were given to your true owners?”

Ichigo takes a slow, deep breath. “We were split up. I was bought by a man who wanted to continue to breed me. I… I look like my mother. That was after Nnoitra ran away.”

“And I got bought by a pair of brothers who wanted to make me into a fighter. Me and Nnoitra used to get into it constantly, I mean, I get it. He was pissed at me after the whole… Surgery, thing.” Shiro winces and dumps his head, and Ulquiorra stares directly at Tensa, whose face is unreadable. “I guess I proved I could fight, so… I did. It was just pitting me against animals at first, like dogs. Got the shit kicked out of me.”

Ulquiorra clears his throat slightly. “When we did our medical examination, there were a lot of scars I didn’t quite understand. Is that… Is that why?”

“Yeah, that’s why. But like, eventually I started to win, so they let me go further. I was fighting over hybrids. The more I grew up, the older hybrids I was fighting. I was fast, which was why they liked me so much.” Shiro laughs and shakes his head, but the sound is too wet, too shaky, and he combs a hand through his hair and falls back on the bunk. “Whatever. I was good at it. I got sold around a bit because I was good at it. As long as I won, I ate. I hate thinking about how many fucking other hybrids I starved because I was too afraid to lose. If I was strong, I could save Ichi.”

Unohana pauses in her writing. “You wanted to save your twin brother?”

“I knew where he was. All these people are just one big close-knit circle of fuckheads who sell to each other back and forth to keep us in their inner circle.” Shiro laughs and then punches the bottom of his bunk, straight into the wooden slat.

Tensa clears his throat quietly. “Shiro, do you want to take a moment out in the hallway?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry Ichi, I just. Yeah.” Shiro shakes his head and shoves himself off the mattress, and Tensa follows him out into the hallway without another word.

Ulquiorra fixes his gaze on Ichigo, whose eyes are still trained on the ground. “Ichigo, would you like me to sit next to you? So you can keep going?”

“Yes.” Ichigo’s head jerks up so fast he almost bumps his head on the bunk, and Ulquiorra jumps up immediately. “Just, can you sit next to me and hold my hand?”

“Of course.” Ulquiorra crosses the room and sits beside him, unsurprised when Ichigo grips his hand with panicky tightness and clings to him, pressing against his side.

Unohana turns her attention to Ichigo. “Where do you want to start?”

“So, breeding. The whole point was that they had to get as many kits out of me as possible, but… I think something was wrong with me? Because it didn’t… Nothing stuck. No matter what they did, it didn’t take.” Ichigo rubs a hand over his stomach and Ulquiorra feels a dull horror slice through his gut at the thought of what those beatings could have done to Ichigo. Maybe he needs to visit the medical doctor that Nnoitra did. “It wasn’t… No one wanted to do it, you know? None of us  _ wanted _ to give them more kids to… To…”

“No one is saying that you wanted such a thing, Ichigo,” Unohana reassures him, turning the page in her legal pad to a fresh one. “In such a situation, no one would say that you could consent to such a thing. It’s… Entirely common, unfortunately, for such things to happen.”

Ichigo shakes his head. “No, no, I don’t… The other hybrids didn’t want to do it either, and they were. They were kind to me, and I was to them. No one wanted to suffer—”

Unohana clears her throat, and Ichigo takes a slow, deep breath to calm himself. “I’m not saying that any of you were at fault. You were in a difficult position and you found a way to make the most of that. No one is going to blame you, or your fellow hybrids, for that.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ichigo worries his lower lip between his teeth, running his thumb over Ulquiorra’s knuckles. “I’m not… Bad for it? We could have gotten in more trouble if—”

This time, Ulquiorra raises Ichigo’s hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently. “You aren’t bad,” he murmurs, and Unohana nods. “It’s called self-preservation. You did what you did because you wanted to survive, and you wanted them to survive. It’s not bad to want to avoid pain and suffering. It’s normal. None of us are going to judge you.”

“Okay. I just.” Ichigo shoves his knees together, hand twisting in the fabric of his sweatpants. “They used to tell me that no one would want me anyway, that I was used and it wasn’t like anyone would want such a slut. So I was just worried…”

Unohana sets her clipboard down. “Ichigo, look at me,” she says, and slowly Ichigo raises his eyes to meet hers. “Those were lies. I’ve seen it in other situations. Your owners told you those things so that you wouldn’t seek help because you believed you wouldn’t deserve it or receive it. It’s a manipulation technique, but it is absolutely not true.”

Gently, Ulquiorra turns, running his fingers through Ichigo’s hair. “But I know these things, and I still want you to come to my home. So it’s evidently not true at all.”

“Oh.” Ichigo nods slowly, then smiles tentatively at him. “Thank you, Quiorra.”

Returning to her notes, Unohana clears her throat. “So, where were we?”

“I, um… I lost track of how many hybrids they tried to breed me with, but it didn’t work. I was taken to a few different doctors, but everything came back fine.” Ichigo shrugs, but Ulquiorra can guess; the trauma of everything probably affected him in more ways than one. “And they started beating me. I guess they were frustrated. When I came here, my back was… It was bad. I could barely move. I wasn’t talking anymore. Everything I said got me scared and I just wanted to curl up in a little ball and hide somewhere.”

Shiro’s voice jumps into the conversation; he gives Ulquiorra a look for where he’s sitting but drops back down on Ichigo’s other side. “And then I showed up to take him away. It took a long time before I could get out of there. And then get to him. I didn’t know where we were going. The police station was just a fucking accident on my part.”

“And now you’re here.” Unohana makes a few more notes on her pad and then looks up and between the two of them. “I’m going to be honest with both of you. There’s really nothing that would imply you wouldn’t be happy in human homes.” She stops and looks at Ichigo, who only blinks back at her. “My major concern is that I think you do need more therapy to work through your issues. They won’t prevent you from living with Ulquiorra Cifer. In fact, I think it would be better if you had a solid foundation of affection and care, and Ulquiorra’s very long record of excellent work here would make him a perfect owner.”

Ulquiorra exhales slowly and nods, squeezing Ichigo’s hand reassuringly. “So, you’re signing off? Ichigo, would you like to have more therapy sessions? I can pay for it.”

“That’s not necessary,” Unohana says quickly. “I do this work for free. My concern is that Shiro appears to have some restless aggression when it comes to these topics, and as he begins to work through those issues either at home or in an office, I’m concerned that might show itself. I don’t want anyone to be harmed in the process—”

Tensa clears his throat; Ulquiorra hadn’t even noticed him walk into the room. “I’ll assist in that regard. There’s a gym not far from the house. If he goes, there’s sandbags. He’s not gonna hit me, but he can hit those. And he’ll come to therapy sessions as necessary.”

Shiro says nothing for a moment and then nods once. “Yeah,” he finally mutters. “Anything that’s gonna keep me and Ichigo together, I’ll do it. One way or another.”

Unohana nods and packs her clipboard back into her bag. “Okay. Let’s set up a few dates for the future, shall we? I brought my schedule along with me.”

Ulquiorra and Tensa pencil in dates around their own schedules and Shiro looks happy about none of it, but Grimmjow moves into Ulquiorra’s open spot and curls against Ichigo’s side, nuzzling against the side of his neck. Seeing the two of them together makes Ulquiorra feel somewhat better, but he still wants to get paperwork signed and have everything taken care of so he can comfort Ichigo. He’s not a fool; he knows that Ichigo is hiding tears in Grimmjow’s shoulder, and he wants to do something about it.

When the paperwork has all been signed, Shiro begrudgingly slides off of the bed to let Ulquiorra sit down on it, and he loops his arms around Ichigo’s shoulders, pulling the cat back into his arms. “It’s okay, kitten,” he whispers against one soft orange ear, his heart shattering when Ichigo sobs quietly. “I’ve got you. I’m going to hold onto you.”

“Yeah?” Ichigo twists around to look at him, and his face is a mask of anguish. His eyes are already red, the end of his nose pink and he sniffles and more tears spill down his cheeks. “Even after you heard all that? I’m not good for anything, not even… Not even the  _ one thing _ I was supposed to be good for. I’m ruined. I’m just—”

“No.” Ulquiorra swallows hard, the backs of his eyes pricking.  _ No, kitten, never. _ “You were hurt. You were abused. That is not your fault. Ichigo, you were a kit. A little boy trained to perform a certain role. The fact that you’ve been able to function outside of that proves just how strong you are, and I am so amazed by you in every way.”

But Ichigo scrubs a hand over his face and shakes his head, hiccuping softly against the palm of his hand. “What if I fall apart? You’ll just give me to someone else.”

“You’re going to be mine forever.” Ulquiorra takes Ichigo’s hand, kissing his fingers gently. “Grimmjow wasn’t perfect, either. He punched a coffee pot, and I still adopted him.”

“He p-punched a coffee pot?” Ichigo looks doubtful, but Ulquiorra nods immediately.

Gently, he cups a hand around the back of Ichigo’s neck and presses their foreheads together. “He did. Broke it. I had to bandage up his arm and everything.”

“Long story,” Grimmjow mutters, rubbing a hand over Ichigo’s stomach gently.

“But I adopted him anyway. You had a rough life. Your entire childhood set you up for a long and miserable existence, but you got away from it.” Ulquiorra wipes Ichigo’s tears away and kisses him on the nose. “You deserve a happy, warm home where you can flourish and grow and work on your past trauma so you can be a happier person.”

Ichigo sniffs softly and curls himself downward until he can shove himself into Ulquiorra’s lap, face nuzzled against his stomach while he cries. And Ulquiorra lets him, fingers combing through Ichigo’s hair, keeping him warm and close and whispering down to him so that he knows it’s okay to break down right now. Grimmjow lays down next to him, grooming his ears and hair gently, fingers stroking the soft fluffy length of his tail while Ichigo sniffles and clings tighter to Ulquiorra’s stomach.

He knew this would be hard, but seeing Ichigo break down makes him feel sick and he feels useless, knowing there’s only so much he can do to help. Physical comfort is an easy task, stroking Ichigo’s hair and petting his ears and letting him cry because Ulquiorra knows he has to get the pain and the sickness out of him so he can feel better.

_ Therapy, _ he thinks, rubbing a hand over Ichigo’s side.  _ Get him into therapy so he can work on this. Give him a home. Give him a hell of a lot of hugs. _

Finally, Ichigo subsides to sobs and sits up slowly, pulling himself into Ulquiorra’s lap, wrapping legs and arms around him and just clinging. Ulquiorra just presses his hands to Ichigo’s back, careful of his skin, holding him close with his face pressed against Ichigo’s shoulder while Ichigo nuzzles his hair and furiously scent marks him.

“He’s gonna be doing that a lot probably,” Grimmjow says, and Ulquiorra gives him a look because of  _ course _ he’s going to do that, it isn’t like Ulquiorra doesn’t have experience with hybrids who like to do just this. “He needs to feel safe, so you gotta smell like him, too.”

Ulquiorra nods, running a finger along the base of one of Ichigo’s fluffy ears. “Of course. Ichigo, you can do as you need to. I’m not going to stop you. Do what you need to do.”

“Thanks.” Ichigo presses his cheek against Ulquiorra’s throat. “For everything. For—”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m happy to take care of you, and I’m happy to protect you now.” Ulquiorra smiles when Ichigo mewls almost right up against his ear, arms tightening around him further and the scent marking getting a little more furious.

Grimmjow leans just past Ichigo’s back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Ulquiorra’s mouth. “I’m gonna thank you, though. You’re a hell of a help for both of us, Quiorra.”

Ulquiorra only shrugs and tilts his head so Ichigo can nuzzle further into his neck, pausing when he sees Shiro and Tensa leaning against the far wall. He can’t hear them from here, but the rigid set of Shiro’s muscles makes him worry long before Tensa stretches a hand toward him, fingers only centimeters away from Shiro’s scarred ear before one pale hand snaps shut around his wrist. The moment is tense; Ulquiorra can feel Ichigo tense up in his arms and he leans back to see Ichigo watching them with uncertain eyes.

“Don’t touch me.” Shiro’s voice is icy cold. “You aren’t allowed to do that shit.”

Tensa’s expression shifts minutely. “My apologies. I thought hybrids enjoyed affection.”   


“Maybe from someone else, ossan, but not you. You’re just a convenient warm bed to me so I can stay with my brother. Nothing more, nothing less.” Shiro shoves his arm, and Tensa lets it fall back to his side without another word, head tilted slightly.

Ichigo frowns. “Nii-san, stop trying to cause trouble. He’s just trying to help you.”

“It’s fine, Ichigo. Don’t worry about it.” Tensa’s voice is low, thoughtful, but his face betrays nothing and Ulquiorra wonders in the back of his mind what the man is thinking. Maybe that he got himself far too deep into something he can hardly handle. “If you don’t want me to touch you, Shiro, then I won’t. If you change your mind, we’ll discuss it if it happens. Are you going to let me sign the next bit of paperwork?”

Shiro’s eyes narrow in his direction and he stalks a step closer, and Ulquiorra gently nudges Ichigo back into Grimmjow’s arms, sliding off of the bunk as Shiro speaks. “Stop talking in such a condescending way to me. You don’t get to act like that. You don’t—”

“And  _ you _ don’t get to talk to him like that.” Ulquiorra steps between them, and Shiro leans away, eyebrow raised. “Tensa-san is trying to do you a favor. Your attitude is horrendous, and it’s unfair to him. I know you’ve been through a lot, but taking that out on an innocent person who’s doing this specifically because you want to stay with your brother is cruel.”

“He doesn’t get to condescend to me and try to touch me without asking,” Shiro snaps.

Ulquiorra squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. “He’s not trying to be condescending. He’s asking you honest questions. He wasn’t trying to violate your personal space, he’s seen the way Grimmjow and Ichigo behave. There are going to be growing pains, which I understand, but you don’t need to respond in such a way.”

“Whatever.” Shiro walks past him and Ulquiorra shakes his head, jumping just a moment when he feels a hand land on his shoulder, turning to see Tensa touching him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, his voice low and cajoling. “I get he’s going to be a little rough around the edges, but it’s going to be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“He’s in my shelter. He has to behave,” Ulquiorra says, and and Tensa only shrugs at him.

Ichigo sniffles quietly and Ulquiorra turns back to him, unsurprised to see him curled up in Grimmjow’s lap. “I’m sorry he’s like this. I know it’s hard, I know he can be mean—”

“It’s not your fault, Ichigo.” Tensa pushes himself off of the wall and kneels on the floor, tucking his hair back behind his ear and taking one of Ichigo’s hand in his. “Your brother suffered a lot of physical pain and I think he likely channeled a lot of his frustration into fighting so he could compartmentalize it. We’ll figure it out together, I promise.”

“Okay.” Ichigo leans forward slowly, bumps his forehead against Tensa’s gently. “You’re a pretty nice human as far as I can tell. If Ulquiorra trusts you, I can trust you.”

“Grimmjow.” Ulquiorra stretches out a hand, touching his kitten’s cheek, “watch over Ichigo for a moment for me. I’m going to get the paperwork, and I’m going to ensure that Nnoitra hasn’t thrown something across his bedroom or tried to bite anyone.”

Lips twitching into a smile, Grimmjow nods. “You got it. You know you can rely on me.”

Truth be told, Ulquiorra needs to compartmentalize his own emotions, and making sure that paperwork is in order and the shelter is in one piece is an easy way to distract himself from the reality of Ichigo’s situation. He knew it was bad, and figured it was just as bad as it had been, but hearing Ichigo discuss it out loud was far worse than Ulquiorra ever imagined it could be. When he’d started mentioning what his former owners had done to him and told him, Ulquiorra wanted to curl up somewhere and die. He could help Ichigo get through it— and he  _ would, _ because he promised— but the reality was that he was almost in over his head, and he’s going to have to really sit down and think through all of this.

But not right now. He has work to do, and hybrids to look after that weren’t just his own.

Even with the door shut, Ulquiorra was unsurprised to hear the loud bite of Nnoitra’s voice echoing in the hallway, pausing before he reassures himself that there is no violence on the other side. Then he gathers the necessary paperwork from Aizen, seeing Shiro sitting on the couch with his eyes fixed on the television, jaw tight.

So be it. Maybe he needs to sit down and think through things himself.

Ulquiorra knows what comes next. After these forms are filled out, there will be home visits, and he’s nervous but excited just the same. Since Ichigo has to visit anyway, he gathers the paperwork to let Ichigo stay with them for the night, thinking that Ichigo definitely deserves something for how hard he worked today. A warm bed, a home cooked meal, a chance to visit his new home without having to worry about the stress of someone watching over him and monitoring his every movement. Ichigo could enjoy it.

When he steps back into the room, he passes Tensa the paperwork and sits down on the floor in front of Ichigo’s bunk as he signs a handful of forms before setting the new stack on top of his clipboard. “Would you like to come home with me tonight?”

“What?” Ichigo stares at him, one ear cocked in curiosity. “What are you talking about? We still have to do the home visit and see if Grimmjow and I get along.”

“Yes, but you can come stay with us for one night as long as the home inspection passes. You have to come back tomorrow, but I thought maybe for tonight…” Ulquiorra shrugs a shoulder, but before he can say anything else, Ichigo pounces on him.

“Please,” he whispers against Ulquiorra’s ear, that rusty purr rumbling up his chest as he looks down into Ulquiorra’s eyes. “I wanna see my new home.”

Grimmjow joins them on the floor, leaning down to lick Ulquiorra’s cheek. “I want that, too. That way we can show him around and get him ready to come home.”

There is a not to be said about being pinned between the weight of two warm, purring cat hybrids, but Ulquiorra tries not to think too hard about that, petting both cats at the same time, a hand for each of them. “Then I’ll fill out the paperwork and Aizen-san can approve it for me. You can sleep in a proper bed tonight, Ichigo.”

“Yours?” Ichigo looks down at him and Ulquiorra blinks at him, not sure how to answer that.

Finally, he gives a tentative attempt. “You can sleep where you want to, Ichigo. No one is going to ask you to do anything you don’t want to do, or make you do anything you don’t want to do. So if you want to share my bed, you can. But that’s all it’ll be.”

He thinks he sees Ichigo’s shoulders relax, and then he smiles. “Awesome. I know Grimm does and I don’t wanna be in a bed all by myself.”

“You’re not going to be by yourself anymore,” Ulquiorra murmurs. “Not ever again.”


	22. Chapter 22

Aizen calls it  _ unfortunate _ that he already scheduled Ulquiorra to miss the next day of work when he signs off on the forms. Of course, with the condition of the weather, it would just be safer if Ichigo spend  _ two _ nights over and Ulquiorra could bring him back to the shelter on his next day of work. Ulquiorra spent the entire conversation staring at Aizen like he kept expecting his boss to realize that he was breaking a serious rule that could get them all in trouble, but he never did. Grimmjow wasn’t going to say a word.

He sits in the office with Ichigo tucked up under his arm, alternating between grooming his ears and just cuddling him close. Seeing Ichigo so vulnerable and upset and hearing the way he spoke about himself broke Grimmjow’s heart. He’d lived that life once but the majority of the damage done to Ichigo was not done to him in the same way; he’d come out stronger and a little less broken than Ichigo had, and that hurts more than he can say.

Now, though, Ichigo is quiet and content lying against Grimmjow’s side, his eyes closed and that soft, somewhat distorted purr leaving his throat while Grimmjow hovers over him. He kept expecting Shiro to bust through the door and demand to know where his twin was, but it seemed like Shiro was in full shithead mode and wasn’t going to do that. It was not like Grimmjow expected Shiro to pull a full one-eighty and start treating Tensa the same way Grimmjow does Ulquiorra and doubts that Shiro could ever see a human the same way, but the least he could have done was be civil to someone who was helping them all out.

Watching Ulquiorra apologize for Shiro’s behavior as he walked Tensa out of the office was amusing, though; Ulquiorra seemed to fully understand what Tensa was going through which made Grimmjow wonder what kind of hybrids Ulquiorra had seen in his time here. When he comes back in, he looks exhausted but sits down with Aizen to finish the last of the paperwork just the same, and Grimmjow feels proud of him.

Gin swings into the room after Unohana leaves, sitting on the arm of the couch and peering down at Grimmjow with a considerate expression on his face. “I was wrong about you.”

“You were,” Grimmjow agrees without even looking up at him, giving Ichigo’s ear a gentle nibble that makes him giggle faintly. “You sure you’re fine with Kira being gone?”

The question seems to catch Gin off-guard but he sighs and gives a helpless shrug. “If Izuru thinks this is what’s best for him, I can’t stop him. I should have told him goodbye, though. Izuru’s not the kind to look back when all is said and done.”

Grimmjow raises an eyebrow at him. “And you just let him walk away like that?”

“We had a bit of a fight after Ran-chan left. I think he’s still upset with me. He has every right to be because I never apologized, but.” Gin shakes his head, turns so he can plant his feet on the couch cushion because that’s a normal way to sit. “But it wasn’t fair to ruin his last day here by pushing an apology down his throat. He wouldn’t have wanted it.”

Studying Gin’s face, Grimmjow takes a shot and punches Gin on the shoulder, startling the fox. “You’re an idiot. That might have been the last time you ever saw him, so the least you could have done was let him know on his way out that you still cared about him.”

“It’s too late to do that now, though.” Gin rubs his shoulder, and Grimmjow thinks he looks far too rueful considering the circumstances. “Izuru is gone now. I can just hope that his new home is at least as loving as the one Ran-chan has moved into now.”

Grimmjow has nothing to say to that, not in the mood to bring up that Ulquiorra has been worried about the new home Kira is walking into, if he’s doing it for the right reasons, and if the man who had taken him in was worth him. Though Grimmjow had only seen the man once, it wasn’t enough to glean anything about him and he can only hope that Kira had made the right decision for himself. He just couldn’t imagine that Gin could be so nonchalant about all of this, but maybe the friendship he had with Kira meant less to him.

“That’s all sorted now,” Aizen says, and Ulquiorra slips the paperwork into a manila envelope. “I hope you all have a good two evenings with one another. Ichigo already looks so happy and relaxed with you, Grimmjow. You’re a natural with him.”

“He’s my best friend.” Grimmjow nibbles Ichigo again, and Ichigo squirms and laughs.

Aizen’s smile is warm and soft. “That’s good. I’m glad you two found each other again. Well, Ulquiorra, that’s about all I needed from you today. Why don’t you take these two home?”

Ulquiorra frowns down at him. “Are you sure? I can stay for the rest of my shift—”

“Now, now, I’m not helpless.” Aizen pats him on the back of the hand. “Go on, go home. You’ve had a long day, and so have Grimmjow and Ichigo. Take them home to rest.”

There is disapproval heavy in Ulquiorra’s gaze but he relents, and Grimmjow stands, helping Ichigo rise to his feet and collect the bag he slipped his clothes into before he leads him outside. Winter is still heavy in the air but recent rains have melted most of the snow, leaving the city looking washed-out and grey. Grimmjow can smell the petrichor heavy in the air but tucks his nose into Ichigo’s hair a moment later, more interested in his scent than anything else. He smells happy right now, the lingering salt of tears a distant memory even though he’d only stopped crying about half an hour ago.

When Ichigo looks up at him, all soft brown eyes, Grimmjow leans down and kisses him on the nose. “You ready to go see our home? We got it nice and clean for you.”

“Oh yeah.” Ichigo bumps into him just a little and Grimmjow can feel Ichigo’s tail curling around his own. “I wanna see all of it. Don’t spare me a second of the tour.”

“I don’t plan on it. It’s your home now, too.” Grimmjow slips his arms around Ichigo’s shoulders, herding him toward Ulquiorra’s car. “C’mon, let’s get you out of the cold.”

If Ulquiorra thinks any of their behavior is abnormal or strange or noteworthy, he says nothing about it. Grimmjow feels slightly bad that Ulquiorra has to sit in the front of the car on his own since detaching himself from Ichigo’s side at this moment is absolutely impossible, but he says nothing as he starts the car and turns to make sure both of them are buckled in. The ride home is a quiet one, which is pleasant for a change. Ichigo lays his head in Grimmjow’s lap and Grimmjow pets his hair and his soft, twitching ears.

He sits up when they pull up in the driveway though, his eyes intent on the apartment. “This is where you live? It’s already so nice just from the outside.”

“Thank you.” Ulquiorra parks the car and turns the engine off. “I’ve lived here ever since I was still in university. I try to keep it looking nice.”

Never one to shy away from being affectionate, Ichigo pulls himself up between the seats so he can wrap an arm around Ulquiorra’s shoulders. “It’s really nice.”

Grimmjow shakes his head at the two of them but helps Ichigo out of the car, shouldering his bag before Ichigo can argue with him. Ulquiorra looks exhausted, not that Grimmjow can blame him for being tired, but he manages a smile for Ichigo just the same as he leads them to the front door and unlocks it. The house is warm inside and they all stop inside of the door to remove their shoes before Ichigo bounds inside, looking around in wonder.

Ulquiorra locks the door and Grimmjow presses against his back before he can turn around, dropping a kiss onto Ulquiorra’s shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you so much for this.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Ulquiorra tells him, but Grimmjow knows that he  _ has _ this time. “Why don’t you show him around the house? I need to take a quick shower.”

He needs to decompress, so Grimmjow nods and turns Ulquiorra around properly, leaning down to kiss him. With as tired as he looks, he wouldn’t be surprised if Ulquiorra just let himself be kissed and did little in return, but the hand that cups Grimmjow’s jaw and urges him closer has him mewling into the kiss, his tail curling around Ulquiorra to pull him closer against the front of his body. When it’s for Ulquiorra, he always melts sweet and smooth.

“Attention-hogging kitten.” Ulquiorra kisses the corner of his mouth, the side of his nose. “I’ll make you both whatever you want for dinner when I get out of the shower.”

“It’s early. We can wait a bit on that.” And maybe he wants Ulquiorra to have a chance to relax without having to take care of them. He deserves it just as much as anyone.

Ulquiorra studies his face before nodding. “All right. Just let me know when you’re hungry.”

“Got it. Now go shower.” Grimmjow kisses him again just because he can, shivering when Ulquiorra pets a hand down the back of his neck. “I’ll be thinking about you naked.”

“One of these days, you can join me for a shower.” And with that, Ulquiorra leaves him standing there, gaping at the door and imagining that, hot water sluicing down his back while Ulquiorra is naked. While both of them are naked.  _ Shit. Holy shit. _

Ichigo touches his shoulder and Grimmjow turns around to see a glint of curiosity in Ichigo’s eyes. And he realizes that Ulquiorra is officially out of earshot just as Ichigo asks, “So, the two of you are having sex with each other, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” No use in lying about it, is there? “But you don’t have to get involved in that. And neither of us expect you to, not after everything you’ve been through. You don’t owe him shit, and you definitely don’t owe me shit. Just don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” Ichigo takes a step closer to him, and Grimmjow can see him considering something, his nose cutely scrunched up. “It’s okay to be affectionate, though?”

Grimmjow huffs softly and nods, pulling Ichigo up against his chest. “Of course, brat.”

“Good.” Ichigo leans up and Grimmjow is expecting a nuzzle and not the flutter of a kiss brushed over his lips that comes. “I can do basic affection. It’s a comfort more than anything else and I trust you. I’d trust you with my life, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Grimmjow feels slightly unsteady on his feet. “C’mon, let me show you around. Can’t show you the bathroom with Quiorra in there, but I can the rest.”

He shows Ichigo around like he promised and when they make it up to Grimmjow’s bedroom— which will soon be both of theirs, not that Grimmjow minds— Ichigo throws himself down on top of the mattress and rolls. He’s  _ cute _ and Grimmjow climbs onto the bed with him, laughing when Ichigo pounces him and nips at his shoulder. They almost end up rolling off onto the floor before they step, and the only reason Grimmjow drags himself away is that he still has to show Ichigo to Ulquiorra’s bedroom, a space where he may very well be spending some of his nights if he really wants to.

This time, Ichigo is more careful. He walks around the room, picking up the framed photographs on Ulquiorra’s dresser, examining them before setting them back down. He examines almost all of the furniture in the room before he climbs on top of the bed proper, sitting up on his knees instead of rolling in the bedding.

His tail is twitching back and forth when he holds his hands out to Grimmjow. “C’mere.”

Grimmjow takes his hands and Ichigo pulls him up onto the bed, stretching himself out on the sheets, his head resting on one of the pillows. Lying down next to him, Grimmjow tucks an arm around his waist, nuzzling against the side of his neck until Ichigo purrs and rolls over, throwing a leg over one of Grimmjow’s and licking a stripe up his cheek.

The two of them are wrapped around each other when Ulquiorra walks into the room, Grimmjow lifting his head and making a slightly strangled noise in his throat when he sees Ulquiorra is wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He’s seen Ulquiorra naked before and it really shouldn’t surprise him anymore, but there’s something about seeing his bare skin flushed from the shower, soft and damp and begging to be touched.

He watches shamelessly as Ulquiorra drops the towel to put on a pair of boxers and his voice comes out, low and throaty, before Ulquiorra can put on pants. “C’mere, Quiorra.”

Slowly, Ulquiorra looks at him, then at the two of them on the bed. “Why, Grimmjow?”

“Because I want you to.” Grimmjow slides over just enough to create space between him and Ichigo, patting it with his hand. “Come lay here between us for a minute.”

Doubt fills Ulquiorra’s eyes. “Perhaps it would be best, given how stressful today—”

Ichigo cuts him off. “Come lay between us. I need to properly scent you now if I live here.”

That has Ulquiorra biting his lip but relenting, crawling onto the bed between them, lowering himself slowly onto his back. Grimmjow satisfies his desire to touch, running his hand down Ulquiorra’s chest, feeling the skin warm beneath his fingers as he licks the side of Ulquiorra’s neck and down over the fresh bandage. He wants to pull the bandage back and soothe the wound himself but pauses when he sees Ichigo’s hand tentatively coming to rest on Ulquiorra’s shoulder, fingers brushing over the line of his collarbone.

“Easy,” Grimmjow reassures him, and Ichigo nods as he skims his fingers along the top of Ulquiorra’s chest, following that line of bone down to his sternum. “Isn’t he lovely?”

Ichigo nods, leaning in to nuzzle at Ulquiorra’s neck. “He really is. I didn’t know humans could be so soft and warm. All the humans I’ve known are cold and cruel.”

There are emotions warring in Ulquiorra’s eyes but he only tilts his head to kiss the top of Ichigo’s head and says nothing. Tanned fingers brush over his sternum and lower, palm pressing against his stomach as Ichigo leans in to swipe his tongue over Ulquiorra’s shoulder. His cheek presses against Ulquiorra’s collarbone, rubbing in just a little to leave his scent behind, and to his credit, Ulquiorra remains still and receptive to touch.

To humans, it might have seemed sexual, but there was nothing in Ichigo’s touch that was questionable not even when he rubbed his cheek insistently against Ulquiorra’s stomach, breathing soft and warm over his skin. He pulled himself back up with a satisfied little mewl, cuddling in against Ulquiorra until the human lifted his arm, pulling Ichigo as close as he could ever want to be. The way he splayed himself across Ulquiorra made Grimmjow’s heart beat a little faster, how settled he already looked this close to Ulquiorra.

Grimmjow understands, though. There’s just something calming about Ulquiorra’s presence, something warm in the inherent way he acts and speaks and conducts himself that makes him absolutely irresistible. Grimmjow hooks a leg over Ulquiorra’s and nips at his jaw, mewling when Ulquiorra slips an arm under him and up, rubbing between his ears, that space of his scalp extra sensitive to any stimulation.

“You both seem so comfortable and warm,” he muses, and Ichigo mewls in answer. “I feel underdressed. Why don’t you let me up so I can put something on?”

“No.” Ichigo mouths at his shoulder and Ulquiorra just lets him, looking bemused at his immediate answer. “Skin’s good. You smell nicer this way.”

Ulquiorra chuckles softly and nods. “All right. No more clothes, then.”

Grimmjow hums in approval and licks up the side of Ulquiorra’s throat again, imagining him with a second mark that matches the one he’s left in Ulquiorra’s skin, courtesy of Ichigo’s teeth. It’ll happen, he’s sure, because Ichigo is so comfortable, looks so safe tucked against Ulquiorra like this. The way he looks at Ulquiorra through the soft autumn feather of his eyelashes is undeniable, though Grimmjow says not a word about it.

They lie together like that for a good half an hour or so before Ulquiorra finally pats them both. “All right, I’m starting to get hungry. Why don’t you let me up, and I’ll fix dinner?”

“Can I help?” Ichigo runs a finger over Ulquiorra’s ribs, and the way the human squirms just a little makes him smile. “I always wanted to learn how to cook.”

Ulquiorra’s face softens. “If you want to, you can help. I’ll teach you everything I can.”

“Thank you.” Ichigo leans up and kisses him on the jaw, his eyelids fluttering as he does so, and Grimmjow can chart the color as it crawls down from Ulquiorra’s hairline to his throat.

The two of them head off to the kitchen together after Ulquiorra puts on clothes and Grimmjow sits at the table to watch them because like hell he’s going to take his eyes off of them or miss the chance to see them interact. Even Ichigo is taller than Ulquiorra, swaying closer to him as they work together, his tail brushing Ulquiorra’s arm by  _ accident, _ Grimmjow is sure. It’s almost cute to see Ichigo teasing Ulquiorra like this, especially because Ulquiorra seems to lose his cool every so often, blushing or stuttering just a little. But by the time they finish, the kitchen smells  _ amazing. _

“Thanks for teaching me.” Ichigo curls his tail around Ulquiorra’s wrist and Grimmjow hides a smile behind his hand. “You’re really good at cooking. How’d you learn to do it?”

“I live alone. You live alone long enough, cooking skills develop themselves if you want to eat decent food.” Ulquiorra smiles up at him and Ichigo mewls softly, leaning in to bump their foreheads together. It has Ulquiorra flushing all over again.

They eat dinner together and Grimmjow twines his tail around Ichigo’s once more while they eat, recalling some of the gentler times they had growing up together and living in the same homes. Not every single second was agony; they’d fallen asleep wrapped up together, curled up close, nice and warm. They’d steal out into lavish gardens together and rolls in beds of flowers or filch pastries from kitchens that served so much food no one noticed a few things missing here or there. There were little ways they found to survive.

Ulquiorra remains silent throughout dinner, though Grimmjow can tell he’s listening to the two of them. What he feels from the stories, Grimmjow can hardly imagine. Hearing a few details about Grimmjow’s own life had upset him in the past, and there was no ignoring how upset and anguished he looked during Ichigo’s therapy session. But he is quiet just the same, gathering the dishes from the table and loading them into the dishwasher.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Grimmjow asks Ichigo, catching him around the waist and pulling him into his lap. “Quiorra’s got streaming services we can pick through.”

Ichigo nods, locking his legs tightly around Grimmjow’s waist. “Carry me.”

He’s light and easy to carry, so Grimmjow has no problem with that, standing with his hands braced under Ichigo’s thighs. “Quiorra, you gonna come watch  movies with us?”

“I’m going to clean up a little in the kitchen and then I’ll join you.” Ulquiorra smiles softly at him, and Grimmjow can see the fatigue in his gaze. It’s been a long day for all of them. “Pick whatever you want, and you don’t have to wait for me to join you.”

Grimmjow lets Ichigo skim through movies until he finds one he wants to watch, and they take over the couch, snatching blankets from the backs of chairs so they can make a pseudo-nest here. When Ulquiorra comes to join them, there’s a thoughtful expression on his face when he sees the screen. Ichigo insisted on waiting for him even though Ulquiorra told them they didn’t have to wait. That expression softens into something else when Ichigo pats the center cushion of the couch, left vacant so Ulquiorra can sit there. Grimmjow only smiles up at him and waits for his human to join their little nest.

He hadn’t said a word to Ichigo about Ulquiorra’s insecurities; it was like Ichigo knew and wanted to do something about them to reassure him that they  _ both _ wanted him.

Ulquiorra sits between them and Grimmjow leans against him, Ichigo throwing his legs over Ulquiorra’s lap as he starts the movie. It’s a cheesy comedy movie but it’s light and feels good to watch, and Grimmjow likes the way Ulquiorra chuckles and giggles, soft and quiet little sounds you have to listen for. He also likes the way Ulquiorra smiles softly when he thinks no one is looking at him and wonders what he must be smiling about.

By the time they finish with two movies, all three of them are tired. Grimmjow nuzzles into Ulquiorra’s throat, pressing his teeth over where his pulse beats. “Wanna go up to bed?”

“Yes, please.” Ulquiorra scrubs a hand over his face, then sits up slowly. “How shall we do sleeping accommodations tonight? The two of you will probably want to sleep in your room so that Ichigo can get used to it, since it’s going to be his room, too.”

“No.” Ichigo shakes his head. “I want to sleep with you in your bed. Is that okay?”

Immediately, Ulquiorra nods. “Of course. We know there’s room for all three of us now.”

Grimmjow smiles and stands, stretching his arms up over his head, yawning loudly and shamelessly. “Then let’s go on up. Ichigo, you can borrow pajamas tonight if you want.”

They change in Grimmjow’s room and race each other to Ulquiorra’s, where he’s already changed and turned back the bedcovers for them, sitting with his back against the headboard and waiting patiently. Ichigo shoves past Grimmjow and climbs onto the bed at the foot, up on his hands and knees, his tail twitching behind him, flicking through the air as he slowly crawls up. Ulquiorra looks hypnotized by the sight but Grimmjow just watches, closing the door as quietly as he can behind him so as not to disturb the scene.

He expects a nuzzle or a lick but Ichigo does neither. Instead, he studies Ulquiorra’s face for a long, long moment and then leans in to kiss him. It’s slow and careful and Ulquiorra’s eyes widen for just a moment before he closes them and lets Ichigo kiss him. They’re a beautiful contrast, too, Grimmjow thinks, and they meet so pretty in the middle.

“Goodnight, Ulquiorra.” Ichigo pecks him on the nose and then lies down next to him, sprawling out and opening his arms for him. His back is closer to the edge of the bed like this, a silent signal that he wants to keep their human in the middle of the bed.

Grimmjow shuts off the light and joins them, watching as Ichigo wraps himself around Ulquiorra like a vine, giving Grimmjow room to press up against his back. He could be wrong, but he thinks it heals something in Ulquiorra’s heart to know he’s loved by both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some soft happiness for the happy trio


	23. Chapter 23

When Ulquiorra wakes up, the half of the bed in front of his face is empty and he gropes at the still-warm sheets as his ears dully register the sound of the shower going on the other side of the wall. There are still arms around his waist though, and something soft wrapped right around where the top of his pajama pants stop, fur tickling his skin. A glance down tells him the arms belong to Ichigo, smaller than Grimmjow’s, hands splayed across his stomach and underneath his pajama shirt, against bare skin.

Hybrids like touch and affection and he knows this, but it still takes him a solid minute to realize Ichigo is just casually palming his bare body like this. He wraps his fingers around Ichigo’s wrist and squeezes gently, laughing softly when Ichigo mewls in his ear and then  _ licks _ it, making him squirm at the ticklish sensation against his bare skin.

“Morning.” Ichigo hugs Ulquiorra tighter against his chest and Ulquiorra protests when he realizes just how much that restricts his breathing. “‘Kay,  _ ‘kay, _ stop struggling so much.”

Ichigo lets him go enough for Ulquiorra to roll over and look at him properly, surprised that he was willing to have Ulquiorra so close to him throughout the night— That Ichigo had no nightmares, at least none that woke Ulquiorra from his slumber and it takes precious little to do that. But Ichigo studies him through long eyelashes that glimmer almost-gold in the pale grey light bleeding into the room, making everything monochrome.

“You’re pretty.” Ichigo states this like a fact and runs his fingers down the side of Ulquiorra’s face, the touch so gentle that he softens beneath it. “I thought that when I first saw you, you know. That you were so pretty, not even for a human. Just… Pretty.”

“Thank you, Ichigo.” Ulquiorra has been told this before but there’s something touching about listening to Ichigo’s still-sleepy voice making its way through the words.

To his surprise, Ichigo scoots across the mattress until their bodies are touching, tangling their legs together and curling his tail around Ulquiorra’s waist once more. “I kept waiting to be afraid of you, though. Humans always scare me. Aizen scared the shit outta me.”

That makes Ulquiorra’s stomach roil unpleasantly. “I’m sorry. I would have stayed the night if I could have, but it was better for me to sleep in my own bed that night.”

“Not your fault. I didn’t want you to stay if it meant you sleeping in a chair, anyway.” Ichigo dips his head, brushing their noses together gently. “You smell so nice, too.”

“I’ve been told that I should smell like Grimmjow to you, but.” Ulquiorra shrugs.

“You do, but there’s  _ you _ underneath that. Your own scent. The smell of your skin.” Ichigo cups the back of his neck and presses his nose under Ulquiorra’s jaw, drawing it down to the base of his throat. “You just smell so good and safe and warm. If you were a bed of flowers I’d want to roll around in you in the sunlight and take a nap there. That’s what you smell like. Not flowers, but like, that general sensation if that makes sense.”

It doesn’t, but how could it ever make sense to Ulquiorra? “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You started waking up as soon as Grimmjow got out of bed. It was so cute.” Ichigo laughs a little against his skin and Ulquiorra cocks his head, not sure what to make of that.

He hadn’t thought he’d notice such a change, especially when he was still plenty warm beneath the covers especially with Ichigo wrapped around him, warmer and better than a blanket could ever be. How did he spend so many nights alone in this bed, especially during the winter when the nights were at their coldest? He can hardly imagine doing that again, not when he’s starting to get used to waking up in someone’s arms. Waking up in the arms of  _ two _ people is going to spoil him, so he’ll never be able to travel anywhere alone or stay at a friend’s house without having some kind of complex as a result.

As if picking up the train of his thoughts, Ichigo laps at his throat. His tongue is a little rough like cat hybrid tongues are, and there’s nothing sexual about this at all, the gentle grooming. It’s just pure affection. “Started kind of moving around a little, reaching for him like you were trying to figure out where he went. You must love him so much.”

“I do. I do love him so much.” He couldn’t imagine his life  _ without  _ Grimmjow which probably means he is entirely too dependent on him, but sue him. It wasn’t a choice made on purpose.

“I’m glad. Grimmjow’s my best friend in the whole world. We were so close growing up. I wish…” Ichigo trails off and Ulquiorra touches his face, stroking from his temple down to his jaw, long and sweeping strokes that soften the tension in his face until he sighs and presses his lips to Ulquiorra’s throat. “Thank you. I guess it doesn’t matter what I wish because what happened… Happened. And I just go from here, right?”

Ulquiorra nods. “Yes. You go from where you are now. With our help, if you want it.”

“Good. And I do. I want it. I want  _ you. _ ” Ichigo curls tighter around him and rubs his cheek all along Ulquiorra’s throat, the only bare skin he can reach while Ulquiorra’s shirt is still on his body until his fingers pull at the buttons on Ulquiorra’s shirt.

It would worry him but he knows it isn’t sexual, isn’t meant to be, so he lets Ichigo open his shirt so he can rub his scent all over Ulquiorra. Lying here while Ichigo just cuddles him and nuzzles into him so insistently feels weird but he just lets Ichigo do as he pleases, wanting him to do whatever he has to do to feel comfortable here.

_ Shiro isn’t going to want to do this with Tensa-san, at least I doubt that very much. _

Ichigo presses Ulquiorra onto his back and lies on top of him, tucking his chin on top of Ulquiorra’s head. “This is nice. Thank you for letting me do this.”

“Do what you need to do to feel comfortable,” Ulquiorra murmurs against his throat, rubbing his hands along Ichigo’s sides, smiling softly when Ichigo purrs for him.

It’s starting to sound like a more natural noise, too. Like he’s getting used to it again.

The bedroom door opens quietly and Ulquiorra tilts his head to see Grimmjow standing in the doorway in nothing but a pair of boxers, his skin flushed from the shower and his hair still damp. Ichigo rolls off of Ulquiorra and smiles, propping his head up on one arm, his ears perked high as he winks at Grimmjow like he’s issuing a challenge. In answer, Grimmjow pulls himself back up onto the bed, pulling Ulquiorra up and against his chest.

“I am not a possession,” Ulquiorra tells them both smoothly.

Grimmjow nuzzles his hair. “Nah, but you should still smell equally like us. Can I look at your shoulder? I wanna see how the bite’s healing up now.”

Ulquiorra humors him and Grimmjow is so careful as he removes the gauze and the tape, a low purr rumbling up in his chest before he leans in, tongue gently nudging at the skin. It doesn’t feel so sore or tender anymore and Ulquiorra tentatively touches it with his own fingers, feeling the edge of it and the grooves of Grimmjow’s teeth scarred into his skin. When Grimmjow licks over his fingers, it makes his stomach feel warm.

“It’s not bleeding or scabbed anymore. It’s all done.” Grimmjow leans back to look at him and there’s no missing how  _ charged _ that expression is. “It healed fast because you let me lick it better. How are you feeling? You still okay that I did it?”

“Yes. I told you I was okay with it.” He smiles and Grimmjow purrs and leans down to kiss him, holding Ulquiorra’s face in both of his hands as he deepens it.

He’s swept away in the slow rhythm of Grimmjow’s lips against his own, the wet slick slide of Grimmjow’s tongue into his mouth. When he feels Ichigo’s weight against his back, it startles a noise out of him and Grimmjow leans back just as Ulquiorra feels Ichigo’s cheek touch his own, Ichigo’s chin pressing into his shoulder. It startles him that he didn’t even stop to think that Ichigo might be bothered seeing them kiss like this, but he only holds Ulquiorra from behind, hands warm against his bare stomach.

“It’s okay.” Ichigo’s tail tickles Ulquiorra’s forearm. “You can kiss him, Grimm. I know how much you wanna. It’s… I like watching it. I like seeing how much you love each other.”

“You’re sure?” Grimmjow’s ears twitch. “I don’t want it to be uncomfortable for you.”

Ichigo nods. “Being in the room when you two have sex, I don’t think I’d enjoy that. But I don’t mind if you kiss him in front of me. You love each other and I’m not gonna impose some rule that you have to keep space between each other or anything.”

“If anything we do together were to raise traumatic issues, I’d like you to be upfront with us about it.” Ulquiorra sets his hand over Ichigo’s and squeezes it gently. “I want you to be safe, of course, and I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to be miserable or to try to deal with it because you think you should do that for our happiness.”

Sighing softly, Ichigo squeezes him around the middle. “I’m  _ not, _ though. But like, if you two want to have sex, I’ll go in another room or turn on the TV or something. Grimm told me how hard it was for him just to tell you that he was in love with you.”

Ulquiorra opens his mouth to argue, but Grimmjow cuts him off. “Ichigo, I just wanna know that you’re doing this for  _ you _ and not for our comfort. We’ll be fine.”

“I’m making this decision because it’s the decision that I’m comfortable with.” As if to demonstrate this, Ichigo tilts his head and kisses the corner of Ulquiorra’s mouth. “I want to kiss him, too. I want to watch you kiss him. Like I said, if it’s sexual, I don’t want to be in the room, and I know you’re not going to pressure me into it or ask me to join unless I offer to ahead of time. Which… It’s gonna be a while, probably, maybe not ever. I dunno.”

“And that’s fine. Our relationship is immaterial of my choice to adopt Grimmjow in the first place.” Ulquiorra tilts his head so he can see Ichigo’s profile, see one clever eye trained on him. “And thus I’ll never push you into it. If you don’t want to have sex again, you don’t have to. I want you to know that that’s a choice for you to make.”

Ichigo nods and tilts his head, rubbing his cheek up against Ulquiorra’s own. “‘S good to hear that come out of your mouth. I might even just sleep over next door with Shiro some nights to give you guys time together. I  _ want _ you to do your thing at your own pace while I’m doing my thing at my pace. It’ll be good for all of us, I think.”

“Okay.” Grimmjow leans in to kiss him, and Ulquiorra just watches them together, watches the way their ears prick, watches Grimmjow’s tail flick through the air, and it hurts him just a little to wonder what they could have been,  _ would _ have been if they grew up somewhere better than their living hell. “Thanks for being upfront. You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. I’m honestly good. I slept through the night and I feel safe right now.” Ichigo tilts his head, drags the flat of his tongue over the bite on Ulquiorra’s neck.  _ Hard. _

Ulquiorra feels strange just sitting between the two of them like this and quietly clears his throat. “As long as the two of you are happy, then I’m happy.”

“Don’t give me that.” Ichigo’s fingers press into his skin. “You’ve been lonely out here, I can tell. You react to touch like we do but it’s less obvious, but you  _ do. _ I’ve noticed it.”

Grimmjow’s head tilts slightly. “You saw it too, huh? Took me a while to pick up on it.”

“Excuse me?” Ulquiorra doesn’t know how to feel about the fact he’s been giving them signals he wasn’t even aware of. He  _ has _ been lonely, of course he has, but it was never something he couldn’t handle, and he was fine handling it on his own like always.

“It’s okay. We’re not gonna judge you or anything. But now none of us have to go without good, happy, reassuring touch again.” Ichigo hugs him as if to demonstrate this and Grimmjow hugs  _ both _ of them, winding those huge arms of his around them both.

To that, Ulquiorra has no response. Instead, he presses his forehead against Grimmjow’s collarbone and just lets himself be. How many times did he tell himself he was not going to adopt a hybrid, that the work was simply too much for him, and that making it work out in the long-run was something he was not capable of? And now he finds himself here, warm and safe and happy, feeling the soft rumbling purrs of two cats as they hold him. It makes something in his stomach toss and twist and he’s so absurdly  _ happy _ for a moment.

Grimmjow leans back and kisses him, and Ulquiorra leans up into it, running his fingers through Grimmjow’s hair and then pulling him down, closer. “I suppose I can’t keep that promise I made that you’d never have to share me with anyone else.”

“I don’t care.” Grimmjow kisses him again. “I’m happy to share you because I know you love me and that’s never going to stop. You’re not going to love me less or stop loving me. I’m not scared of that anymore. You’ve done too much to ever make me doubt you again.”

Ulquiorra feels something in his chest flutter at those words and smiles softly, bumping his forehead against Grimmjow’s own. “I’m so glad. I never wanted to make you worry about that. I just wanted you to know that I was going to take care of you and keep you safe, and that no one was ever going to come in and take me away from you.”

“You guys are so cute.” Ichigo nips at the scar on Ulquiorra’s shoulder, teeth gentle on the freshly-healed skin. “I’m so fucking glad I’m here with both of you. You’re both amazing.”

They sit together on the bed for a while longer, just luxuriating in the closeness of each other before Ulquiorra’s stomach rumbles and he insists they need to get up and eat. Grimmjow pushes him into the shower and tells him to get cleaned up, that he and Ichigo can fix breakfast, and Ulquiorra lets them, smiling softly when Ichigo all but leaps onto Grimmjow’s back, Grimmjow easily bearing his weight as he carries him to the kitchen.

He takes his time washing up in the shower, careful of the scar on his shoulder and studying it closely in the mirror when he’s clean and out. The mark is just as visible as Grimmjow promised and he presses his fingers to it, remembering the cocky, self-assured asshole cat he met on the doorstep that morning, the cat he spoiled and cherished and did everything to secure only to find himself with  _ two _ of them now.

He dresses in sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt and heads downstairs for breakfast, smiling when he finds Grimmjow and Ichigo trading laughs and kisses while they set the table. And he doesn’t feel the least bit jealous or left out, not when they both look toward the doorway as he steps into the room, the way their faces both seem to light up just a little bit more at the sight of him like they’ve been waiting for him.

“We should probably go shopping today since we have the time,” Ulquiorra says as he’s all but pushed into his chair by Ichigo. “Start buying you clothes and whatever you want, really, so that it’ll all be here for you. You and Grimmjow already get along well together, and you and I get along. The home visits are going to be easy to pass.”

Ichigo pauses and considers him, his tail curling into a cute question mark shape. “You’re going to buy me clothes and stuff? You don’t have to do that for me.”

_ One step at a time. _ “I do. If you’re going to be living here, I want you to have clothes of your own, and anything, really, of your own. Books and personal possessions. Electronics if you want them. Anything you want that I can afford, it’s yours. You deserve that.”

“Oh.” Ichigo stares at him, then abruptly straddles Ulquiorra’s waist and leans down to kiss him. “Thank you. Don’t tell me that shit about how I don’t have to thank you because I  _ want _ to thank you. It means a lot to me. Don’t argue with me about this.”

Ulquiorra bites back his objection and nods. “You’re welcome. We can go after we eat.”

“You can wear my clothes or Ulquiorra’s, but I honestly think his might fit you better.” Grimmjow shrugs, hooks an arm around Ichigo’s waist and pulls him up out of Ulquiorra’s lap, biting the side of his neck. “Not that I mind if you smell like me a bit.”

They sit down to eat together after Ichigo agrees he should probably wear Ulquiorra’s clothes because they’ll fit him, and Ulquiorra tells them how good their cooking is because it  _ is, _ and it warms him all the way through. He just watches them over the table, Grimmjow’s ears perked up as high as they’ll go, Ichigo’s tail swaying gently in the air and Ulquiorra feels like some missing piece of himself finally slots into place.

He cleans up the table while Grimmjow drags Ichigo off to get dressed and starts the dishwasher, then shrugs on his coat and picks out one he knows Ichigo can wear, smiling when his hybrids come back into the living room. He holds out the coat for Ichigo who takes it with a pleased mewl, and he looks  _ good _ in the deep green button-down Grimmjow chose for him, the dark material setting off how dramatically bright his hair is.

“Cute kitten.” Ulquiorra rubs under his chin and Ichigo purrs and leans down to kiss him.

“I can’t believe Shiro turned down a chance to get to stay over for a night,” Grimmjow muses as they walk toward the car. “I know those two aren’t getting along, but—”

Ichigo makes a derisive noise in the back of his throat. “I’m going to try to get him to calm down and at least be respectful while the two of them are living together. I don’t want him to unintentionally hurt someone who’s just trying to help him out. And Tensa-san seems like a very kind man when the two of us talked, so Shiro needs to get the stick out of his ass.”

“You know him, he’ll take a while to warm up to him if he warms up at all.” Grimmjow shakes his head. “Hell,  _ Nnoitra _ warmed up to a human faster, and you know how he was.”

“Mm, I remember. Even without venom, he’d still bite the hell out of any human who was stupid enough to get too close to him.” Ichigo eyes Ulquiorra apprehensively and Ulquiorra only nods in agreement because he’d almost been bitten cleaning Nnoitra’s wounds. “But he and Tesla seem cute together? Tesla would come in for his shifts and Nnoitra would be up to spend time with him. So maybe there’s hope for Shiro after all.”

Ulquiorra takes Ichigo’s hand in his, giving it a gentle and he hopes reassuring squeeze. “All of the statistics we have show that even the most difficult hybrids tend to improve when they have an actual home, so I’m sure everything is going to be just fine.”

“Speaking of hybrids and homes, is there any way to like…” Grimmjow trails off.

“Any way to what?” Ulquiorra asks him, pausing at the driver’s door, unlocking the doors.

“To keep up with Kira and make sure he’s okay in his new home? I know he made the choice and we can’t tell him to go back on it, but it feels wrong not knowing.” Grimmjow shrugs a shoulder, heaving a sigh. “I just, I dunno, I’m worried about him I guess. Is that weird?”

_ Worried about him? Oh, kitten… _ “No, Grimmjow, that’s a very normal feeling to have. We will contact Amagai-san in four weeks to inquire how Kira is doing, but he doesn’t have to respond if he chooses not to. There is little we can do now, but should anything happen, we’ll be the first shelter called in to handle matters. I can promise you that much.”

He sincerely hopes that his strange feeling was just a result of the stress he’s been feeling surrounding the twins and the fact that Kira and Gin were on the outs, making everything seem so rushed even though it was no more quickly put together than any other adoption was. Though he doesn’t know what it was about Amagai that made him uneasy, he wants it to be a paranoid feeling and nothing more. Kira deserves to be happy.  _ All _ of the hybrids at their center deserve to be happy one way or another.

Ulquiorra can and will do his best for all of them, like he always has.

Ichigo sits up front with him while Grimmjow stretches out across the back and something warm curls in his stomach when Ichigo tosses a foot up on his legs, something so casual and yet so nice. He looks genuinely interested to go to the city, too, which is a relief, and Ulquiorra is glad that he’s making strides toward a better and more positive life.

Some of them may only be baby steps, but Ulquiorra will do anything to help him. Whether that means holding his hand, merely guiding him, or standing back to let him do as he pleases, he’ll do anything. Ichigo deserves that effort and so much more.

“We should make a proper nest one day,” Ichigo says, aiming his eyes toward the rear view mirror. “And wrap Ulquiorra up in it. Have you done that yet?”

“Half-assed, but not fully, no. But yeah, no, that’s a great idea.” Grimmjow sounds genuinely pleased with the prospect and Ulquiorra remembers seeing the hybrids all curled up together in Nnoitra’s nest, smiling at the thought of being in the middle of that.

Ichigo hums and smiles. “I’ll see if there’s any especially soft bedding while we’re out, then. Gotta get the best stuff. And  _ only _ the best stuff, if it’s gonna be the three of us.”

The two of them chatter back and forth and Ulquiorra feels so calm and  _ warm _ here, watching the two of them interact, listening to the way they talk and giggle and make plans. Plans that include all three of them, all of their happiness bundled up together and no longer separate. And Ulquiorra is happy with that prospect, of spending his life with the two of them and everything that is going to entail. All of the changes he’s made to his life so far just to incorporate Grimmjow have been well worth it, and he could never imagine  _ not _ having Grimmjow near. It would be impossible.

Ichigo insists on holding his hand when they walk into the first store together and Grimmjow stays pressed up against him, and people stare because of course they do. Other hybrids and humans paired up together give them interested glances and Ichigo seems curious at the sight of them together but says nothing, seemingly content just to see it, and Ulquiorra lets him be as affectionate as he wants to be in public. Even when that means Ichigo steals kisses that Grimmjow has to match because of course he does.

It may seem foolish, but Ulquiorra has never felt so loved in his entire life.

By the time they get back home with their purchases, he’s happy to fall onto the couch with the two of them, wrapped up in their arms and wholly content with his choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story has one more chapter left in it and then it'll be all wrapped up~ well until the sequel lol


	24. Chapter 24

“Are you sure you got everything you need for the weekend?” Grimmjow asks Ichigo from where he sits on their shared bed, watching him fold the clothing he’s taking next door with him. “I mean, you can always come get whatever you want if you need to, but—”

Ichigo cuts him off, rolling his eyes. “Yes,  _ Tousan, _ I’m sure. Besides, I’m not keen on walking in on the two of you having sex, so I’m taking extra precautions in what I pack.”

“You’re the best, y’know?” Grimmjow leans over to give Ichigo a brief kiss. “You’re the only person I know who finds out his partners want to have sex and come up with some contrived story about your brother being an asshole and wanting to go stay with him.”

“I mean, it’s easy to come up with contrived stories when they’re true. He  _ is _ being an asshole to Zangetsu right now, so I’m going to go calm him down for a weekend so the poor man can take a break.” Ichigo smirks at him, tipping him a wink. “Just so happens you wanna have sex this weekend, too. I didn’t know anything about that, right? How could I have?”

Grimmjow grins and shakes his head at him; they’d spoken about it last night when Ichigo asked Ulquiorra at dinner if it would be okay if he spent the weekend next door. Though Shiro has been adjusting, the relationship between him and Tensa Zangetsu has been strained to say the least; the man tries his best but Shiro tends to eschew any true attempts to bond that occur between the two of them. He comes over almost every day to check on Ichigo, a bad habit he’s going to have to learn to break one day before Ichigo loses his temper and reminds Shiro that he doesn’t  _ need _ to be coddled so much.

Every day, Ichigo gets a little bit better, and Grimmjow is beyond proud of his effort.

Ichigo zips his bag up and slings it over his shoulder. “Okay, I’m all good to go now. Do me a big favor and make sure you take the best care of Quiorra while I’m next door. Got it?”

“You know I have every intention of taking care of him.” The words are spoken with a wicked little smile and Ichigo laughs, ruffling Grimmjow’s hair on his way out of the room.

He says his goodbyes with Ulquiorra, taking great care to kiss their human at least half a dozen times as he puts on his shoes and zips up his jacket. While they do that, Ulquiorra’s phone vibrates from its position on the side table next to the couch, and Grimmjow picks it up when he sees Tesla’s name on the screen, opening the messages to see a photo peeking back at him. The room is unfamiliar to him but it must be Tesla’s living room based on the fact he can visible see Tesla’s feet propped up on a stool, a long spill of black hair on his lap looking more like a crude blanket than anything else, showing up violet in the flash.

_ Just like old times, _ the message with it says, and Grimmjow smiles despite himself.

“What’s that?” Ulquiorra walks up to him, retrieving his phone; Grimmjow can see the moment when his face softens. “It seems things are working out for everyone. I’m glad.”

Grimmjow nods, taking the phone and setting it back on the side table, pushing Ulquiorra’s back up against the front door as he leans down to press a kiss to his soft lips. “Now that Ichigo’s gone for the weekend, I wanna make good use of the time we have together.”

“Naughty kitten.” But Ulquiorra lifts his arms and Grimmjow thrills at the offer, stooping down just enough to get his hands wrapped around the back of Ulquiorra’s thighs, lifting him off of his feet. “My bedroom, Grimmjow. I think you conspired against me for this.”

“Would that be so bad?” Grimmjow asks, carrying Ulquiorra down the short hallway.

Ulquiorra looks thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose not. Just make the most of the time we have together so there are no regrets when Ichigo comes home. I have some ideas...”

The bedroom smells like them, like all three of them because it’s rare that Grimmjow and Ichigo spend a single night in their own beds as long as Ulquiorra is home. They tend to sleep with him in the middle, too, curled up warm and safe between them, taking turns grooming his hair and kissing his face until he falls asleep. If anyone had told Grimmjow he would ever fall so deeply in love with a human, he would have laughed the idea off, convinced that humans were harmful and cruel and could never be trusted.

Now, though, he lies Ulquiorra out on their shared bed, crawling on top of him, flattening his warmth down against Ulquiorra’s slender body as he kisses down the side of his neck. He licks over the mark on Ulquiorra’s shoulder, dragging his tongue over the imprint of his own teeth and Ulquiorra shudders, his foot kicking at the mattress. Though it should have been like any other scar, the mark on Ulquiorra’s shoulder seems especially sensitive and he reacts so sweetly, gasping and shaking every time one of them touches it.

“What do you want, Quiorra?” He runs his hand under Ulquiorra’s shirt, fingers splaying wide and possessively across his pale belly. “Tell me. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Ulquiorra licks his lips, looking up at Grimmjow through the dark tangle of his lashes and it makes Grimmjow’s cock throb, already pressing against the front of his jeans. “I just want to see you enjoying yourself. Anything is fine with me if I can see that smile on your face.”

_ Fuck, Quiorra… _ “If you say so.” Grimmjow pulls the shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside so he can drag the flat of his tongue up Ulquiorra’s torso. “I’m gonna ride you. I want to watch your face while I do it, when I’m the one who’s in control. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course, Grimmjow.” Ulquiorra runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face, staring up at him with those viridian eyes. “Condoms in the top drawer, and lube.”

_ I wasn’t the only one planning this apparently. _ He leans over to retrieve what he’s looking for, setting them in easy reach before his hands are under Ulquiorra’s pants, dragging them down his legs and leaving him pale and naked against the dark sheets. His skin looks so soft to the touch and Grimmjow doesn’t deny himself, smoothing his hands over Ulquiorra’s slender thighs, the shape of his hips. His mouth follows not long after, breathing warm and wet over the swell of his cock until it strains, desperately hard.

“You’re a fucking sight,” Grimmjow says, wrapping a hand around Ulquiorra’s cock because he can, feeling the heat of his shaft against the palm of his hand. “Can’t say I’ve ever known a human who’d just let someone like me maul them like this. They’d get mad at me.”

Ulquiorra’s eyes flash with  _ something _ that Grimmjow can’t quite pin down before his hand pets down the side of Grimmjow’s face. “It is fine, kitten, because I trust and love you.”

He’s going to have to make this the best sex of Ulquiorra’s  _ life _ for that comment.

Oral sex was something he was trained to perform, not that he’d ever chance saying that out loud where Ulquiorra could hear because he could only imagine the case of arrested development that Ulquiorra would become if that was said out loud. Besides, it’s different with him. Grimmjow  _ likes _ giving Ulquiorra head, likes the taste of pre-come gathering at the back of his throat with every bob of his head, loves the hot slick slide of his tongue around Ulquiorra’s shaft as he licks him like sweet candy. When Ulquiorra moans, an arm tossed over his eyes, hiding them from view, Grimmjow hollows his cheeks and  _ swallows. _

He’d suck Ulquiorra to completion if he wanted, but the pale fingers in his hair pull him off and he stops, panting softly, drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. When it comes to blowjobs, he likes a sloppier touch than most, and it really shows, wet all down his chin.

“Let me stretch you open, kitten.” Ulquiorra’s voice is blown, his pupils dark and eating up the green of his eyes, his skin flushed and hot. “I’ll treat you so well, make you want it.”

“I know you will.” Still, there’s a moment of uncertainty, of unease in Grimmjow’s gut as he licks up the inside of Ulquiorra’s thigh. “Sure you don’t want me to do it? I can always—”

Ulquiorra shakes his head. “I want to. I want to hear all of the little sounds you’re going to make for me, watch your face every time it feels good. Besides, my fingers will be able to reach deeper than yours, and you’re going to need the attention. I’m not exactly small.”

That is probably true because Ulquiorra’s petite stature really does not match up to the size of his dick, and Grimmjow hasn’t taken anyone in… Ever, but that’s his little secret. So he nods and stretches out next to Ulquiorra on the bed, on his stomach with his head pillowed on his arms, thighs parted so Ulquiorra can kneel between them.

He tells himself that he is safe with Ulquiorra and of course he is because Ulquiorra would never do anything to hurt him. The sound of the bottle of lube being opened frightens him a little but the cool touch never comes. It’s warm instead, Ulquiorra’s lips against one cheek, fingers biting into his flesh to spread him wide before a hot, wet tongue licks a lewd stripe from behind his balls all the way up to his hole.

“Fuck.” Grimmjow shoves his face into his arms harder, not expecting it though maybe he should have given he’s done this exact same thing to Ulquiorra. “Fuck, you’re really—”

“Yes.” Ulquiorra licks over his hole with the flat of his tongue, the muscle there spasming in answer. “I want you to relax, kitten. I can see you’re tense, and I know you’re afraid. But you don’t have to be. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Grimmjow whimpers softly and nods. “I know, Quiorra. I trust you. I’m just… It’s—”

“I understand.” Ulquiorra’s hand rests lightly on his hip, fingers brushing his skin gently in time with the wet strokes of his tongue. “I’ll take care of you.”

_ Trust. _ Grimmjow presses his face down against his forearm, trembling, unable to ignore the way his hips roll back against the wet pressure of Ulquiorra’s tongue. Their entire relationship has always hinged on the fact that Grimmjow felt safe in trusting him when he never felt such things for any other human, a quality he never thought mattered very much in the sum total of his life until this moment. When Ulquiorra’s tongue presses against his rim, Grimmjow falls limp against the sheets, mouth open against his own skin, whining softly as the hand on his hip grips just a little tighter, but never enough to hurt.

The slick rhythm of Ulquiorra’s tongue, spearing him open, teasing at his rim, lips pressed against him to  _ suck _ has him writhing down against the mattress, grinding his cock against the soft bedspread. He almost doesn’t notice the edge of a finger pressing against his entrance until it slides inside beside Ulquiorra’s tongue, lube-slick and curling against his prostate before he can process. He shouts pleasure against his own skin, tightening around Ulquiorra’s finger, thighs quiver. The pressure is insistent, a rhythm tapped against him.

“You’re so pretty when you’re like this, kitten.” Ulquiorra kisses against his flesh and Grimmjow moans, throwing his head back, hips rolling until Ulquiorra presses in a second finger, thrusting them deep inside of him. Deeper than his could have ever gone. “So soft, so giving. Trusting me to take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

Grimmjow wails when a third finger works its way inside, his rim feeling hot stretched around Ulquiorra’s fingers, his inner walls trembling against Ulquiorra’s touch.

“Easy, kitten.” Ulquiorra kisses the back of his thigh. “Open up for me.”

The minute nudges of his fingers against Grimmjow’s inner walls have him shivering and rutting down harder against the sheet. It’s not  _ enough _ and he paws for Ulquiorra’s hand, squeezing it tight, desperate to tell him he needs to  _ fuck _ him right now.

“Are you ready?” Ulquiorra licks around the edge of his rim and Grimmjow whines pitifully, rolling back against his fingers. “All right, kitten. I’ll let you take over from here.”

When he lies back down, Grimmjow is on him in an instant, shoving his tongue into Ulquiorra’s mouth as he ruts down against his cock, trapping Ulquiorra between his thighs, knees digging into the mattress. He ruts against him like he had the first night they’d done this, grinding their cocks together, slicking Ulquiorra with their pre-come before he straightens up, takes a deep breath.  _ I’m in control, _ he reminds himself even as Ulquiorra’s hands come to rest butterfly-light on his hips.  _ He’s letting me do this. _

And if Grimmjow turns around and walks out, Ulquiorra will not force him to return.

It takes a minute to fumble the condom on, his fingers running with fine tremors but he manages to roll the latex on, pulling it into place while Ulquiorra watches him with half-lidded eyes. His face is rosy, his black hair a messy halo spread out on the pillows, nothing like the stoic-faced young man Grimmjow met on his first day in the shelter.

His fingers scratch through the black curls around Ulquiorra’s cock, glistening with pre-come, to grip the base of his shaft and hold him steady. The head of his cock is blunt so that it strains a little even with how Grimmjow has been stretched and it’s so  _ hot _ but Grimmjow grits his teeth and rolls his hips down, gasping when just the tip slips inside. It opens him wider than Ulquiorra’s fingers, hard and hot and  _ perfect _ , toes curling against the soles of his feet as he sinks down centimeter by centimeter until his ass touches the curl of his own fist, still holding Ulquiorra steady.

“You’re beautiful,” Ulquiorra tells him, blissed out beneath him, lids heavy and lips parted around small sounds. His chest is flushed bright and Grimmjow licks his lips at the sight, clenching tight around him, groaning at how that feels. “Do that  _ again, _ Grimmjow.”

So he does, flexing the muscles inside, gripping Ulquiorra’s cock harder as he moves his hand, slides down the rest of the way until his ass rests against Ulquiorra’s pelvis. He’s  _ big _ , feels bigger inside than he did when Grimmjow was sucking him off. And he holds beautifully still, eyes shut lightly, hands massaging circles into Grimmjow’s hips.

“Feels so good.” Grimmjow feels almost drunk with desire now, his hips grinding down against Ulquiorra’s in little circles, keeping Ulquiorra bottomed out inside of him. A low mewl leaves his lips, his ears pressing down against his scalp, tail lashing through the air.

Ulquiorra’s lips split into a fond smile and he stretches a hand up, stroking the soft fluff of Grimmjow’s ear. “You’re so cute,” he rasps out. “My sweet little kitty cat.”

“Yeah?” Grimmjow brushes the soft fur of his tail under his body, tickling Ulquiorra’s balls with it, laughing when Ulquiorra squirms beneath him. “Not so sweet now, am I?”

Ulquiorra huffs up at him. “Little tease. One day I’ll spend hours doing nothing but taking you apart until you’re begging, and I still won’t give it to you.”

Grimmjow spasms around him at the thought. “Oh  _ please, _ ” he says, rolling his hips.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Ulquiorra squeezes his hips, and Grimmjow nods, breathing slow.

When he’s finally ready to move, he rises slowly, hips flexing, shivering at the sticky wet sound of Ulquiorra’s cock sliding out of him before he lowers himself back down. It’s so slick and hot inside and it feels so good, slowly riding Ulquiorra, taking care to focus on how it feels. The way his walls tighten around Ulquiorra’s cock so that every nerve feels rubbed and raw, and when he shifts his hips forward just a little—

“There,” Ulquiorra murmurs when he gasps, his ears flattening once more. “Again, kitten. Right up against that spot inside of you that feels so good.”

Grimmjow whines but does as asked, fucking himself on Ulquiorra’s cock, feeling the length of it drag over his prostate with almost every movement. He goes slow because going too fast would be too intense for him, too much for him to process. As it is, his inner muscles keep fluttering and pulsing, his hands sinking into the bedsheets, claws tearing through the top sheet as he moans. And Ulquiorra is so quiet beneath him, softer moans and sighs.

“You feel so good.” Ulquiorra pets down his trembling side. “Wrapped around me so tight.”

Whining, Grimmjow slides down on him again, panting at how full he is, how wide he’s stretched. “It’s so much,” he says, long past the point of being eloquent.

“I can feel you shudder every time you breathe.” Ulquiorra rolls his hips, an experimental little movement when Grimmjow comes down that has him seeing stars. “It’s heavenly.”

“I c-can’t—” He breaks off, shaking his head furiously, his thighs burning. He likes physical exercise but this is almost too much for him, too much emotional and physical sensation piled on top of the exertion, and he claws at the bed, reaches for Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra catches Grimmjow’s hands in his own, kissing his fingers. “Do you want me to lie you down and take you like that? I’ll stop if you ask me to, the moment you do.”

“I— I— Please?” Grimmjow feels so  _ helpless _ right now, not sure what he wants.

When he lies down on his back, Ulquiorra takes his time getting into position, kneeling between Grimmjow’s open thighs, petting the soft insides of them, hands running up to grip the base of his cock, fingers caressing and massaging his balls until Grimmjow is a quaking mess all over again. Two fingers slide inside of him once more, massaging his prostate, thumb rubbing through the lube smeared over his perineum. Catching the nerves there between dual sensations until Grimmjow’s hips arch off of the mattress.

“Such a pretty kitten.” Ulquiorra’s fingers pull at his rim, holding it open as he presses the head of his cock against it once more. “Can you feel that, kitten? Can you feel me?”

Grimmjow nods, rolling his hips down, desperate to have Ulquiorra back inside. “Fuck me,  _ please, _ Quiorra. Please, I want it so bad. I wanna come with you inside me.”

He sees something in Ulquiorra’s eyes flicker before Ulquiorra smiles down at him, rolling his hips slowly, easing the head inside, not stopping until their hips are flush together once more. It’s one long slow thrust that has Grimmjow gripping the headboard for something to hold onto, his legs wrapping tight around Ulquiorra’s waist, desperate to hold onto him. His heels have to be digging in painfully but Ulquiorra doesn’t tell him to stop.

“Very good.” He pulls out just as slowly and when he thrusts back in, it’s  _ hard _ and sudden, snapping their hips together, pulling a choked sound from Grimmjow’s throat. “You feel like you were made just for me to be inside of. Or maybe I was made just for you.”

That’s a dizzying thought and Grimmjow can only mewl softly in answer, hips rising to meet Ulquiorra’s as if by muscle memory, as if they had danced this dance before. Ulquiorra’s hand slips into the small of his back, keeping him there as he pumps inside of him, the wet slick and sticky sounds making Grimmjow flush and squirm. Too much lube, they’d used  _ too much _ and the latex condom is only making it worse, making it  _ slippery. _ Ulquiorra’s free hand smoothes up his thigh, fingers running through his pubic hair to grip his cock.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ulquiorra doesn’t move faster even though he must want to, keeps the pace slow and smooth as he fucks Grimmjow, hand jerking him off with the same steady pace. The lube and Grimmjow’s own pre-come make it embarrassingly loud but Ulquiorra seems not to mind. “Are you going to come for me now, kitten? With me buried so deep inside of you that you’re all I can feel, every little twitch and spasm?”

Grimmjow flushes at the words and nods, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, tightening around Ulquiorra again, who only fucks him through it, a long wet thrust that rubs against every crevice inside of him until he’s shaking with it. “Fuck Quiorra, fuck—”

“I am.” Ulquiorra rolls his hips again and Grimmjow’s vision almost whites out. “Right now.”

Grimmjow reaches for him and Ulquiorra lets Grimmjow squeeze his forearm, still stroking his cock with slow, languid flicks of his wrist that leave Grimmjow trembling. The heat burning through his body seems to condense between his thighs, stroked to life by Ulquiorra’s body, by his touch, by the way his eyes seem to glow as they look down at him.

“Come for me, sweet kitten,” Ulquiorra whispers, and that fire  _ explodes. _

Grimmjow yowls and throws his head back against the pillow, overwhelmed by the pleasure, by the hot glow that shoots through his veins and tenses all of his muscles. He can feel it everywhere, helpless to do anything  _ but _ feel and Ulquiorra never stops moving, every slow liquid thrust of his hips pushing Grimmjow higher and higher until he feels like he may fall. It encompasses everything, blots out the rest of the world until Grimmjow is a trembling, mewling mess. Only then does Ulquiorra let go, groaning softly as he does.

He peels the condom off, ties it, and tosses it into the trash can next to his bed before allowing Grimmjow to pull him down into the bedding, letting Grimmjow cling to him as much as he wants. His eyes are wet with more emotions than he can describe and Ulquiorra kisses him, thumbs the tears off of his cheeks and strokes his ears until he’s curled at his side, sweet and docile. He feels so safe right here in Ulquiorra’s arms.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice blown and rough. “I love you so much, Quiorra.”

Ulquiorra kisses the top of his head. “I love you too, Grimmjow. More than you can know.”

The phone call comes on Sunday evening after Ichigo has come back home, announcing his attempts to make Shiro be good were a failure before promptly collapsing on top of both of them and demanding cuddles for his efforts. Grimmjow is sore all the way through but he hugs Ichigo up against his chest so Ulquiorra can answer his cell phone, the calm expression on his face tightening slightly as he murmurs into it. Grimmjow should be able to hear him, but Ichigo is too close, mewling and purring in his ear for him to focus.

And then Ulquiorra stands up, a sudden jerk of a motion that has Grimmjow lifting his head in alarm. “What hospital? That’s the one— I understand. I’ll be there immediately.”

“What is it?” Ichigo asks him, his ears starting to fall down. “What happened?”

Ulquiorra stops and sits back down, smoothing his fingers through Ichigo’s hair. “I know you just came home, but I have to make a quick run. I’ll be home as soon as I can, baby.”

“What happened?” Grimmjow asks him, nuzzling the side of Ichigo’s neck to quiet him.

The expression on Ulquiorra’s face  _ drops. _ “It’s Kira. He’s been hospitalized.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *claps hands together* let's pretend i didn't just leave you guys on a cliffhanger
> 
> so this was the second really long bleach story i started and i never anticipated it coming this far. at all. i never knew it would hit 100k because i never imagined i could write something that long. but as we've seen, i've done it a couple times! and i want to keep doing it, i really like writing these longer stories for you guys. i hope you're enjoying them.
> 
> i really loved getting to explore the relationship between grimmjow and ulquiorra, and i think ichigo added a special twist, and he was a sudden decision on my part, not planned at all. they'll start being more intimate together down the road once ichigo has had a chance to heal, but he's suffered quite a bit so it's going to take some time for him to feel safe and comfortable with that again. he's got some scars he's working on caring for.
> 
> there will be more of this of course! i want to spend some one-on-one time with kira, if you guys would be interested in that. we'll come back to the ot3, and i want to do more with nnoites and shiro/zangetsu too, but i feel like kira is the one i want to write about next. his experiences, his suffering, what led to the decision he made in this story, ulquiorra's bad feeling and what came of that. i love kira. i just want to shower him in affection.
> 
> i've got two stories that i'm about five chapters up on in my documents, and i would like to share one of them with you guys. i'm pretty sure i know which one. i wonder how you guys would feel about spending some time with aizen and shinji and watching them raise a kid together?
> 
> of course i'll come back to this 'verse, but i want to spend a bit of time away, really honing my ideas for kira's story, which have changed in big ways two times already. i want to be sure i can do him justice.
> 
> thank you all for your support during this story. you all mean the world to me.
> 
> xoxo
> 
> dylan.


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